


Hearts on Fire

by addict_writer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Child Stiles, Friendship, Full Shift Werewolves, Growing Up Together, Lost in the Woods, M/M, NaNoWriMo 2017, Rain, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Slow Burn, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-03-23 20:43:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 53,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13795965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addict_writer/pseuds/addict_writer
Summary: Derek Hale shifts into his wolf form after the fire destroys his house with his family trapped inside, refusing to ever return to being a human. Young Stiles and his father moved to Beacon Hills after losing Claudia. The howls of pain coming from the woods keep Stiles awake at night. One day, he goes to investigate, not knowing this decision will change his life.Written for NaNoWriMo2017





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for NaNoWriMo2017. My first attempt at this and I have to say, it didn't turn out half bad.
> 
> Title inspired by the song Hearts on Fire by Hammerfall.
> 
> Standing ovation for Predec2 for helping me turn this monster into something readable.

 

 

The little house on the edge of the forest was covered in darkness and long, scary shadows.

Stiles sat up on his bed, playing with the edge of his blanket. It was his comfort blankie – his mother always wrapped him in it when he wasn’t feeling well.

Stiles watched the shadows playing on the walls as he rocked back and forth, fear gripping him from the inside. He sniffled as quietly as possible. He didn’t want to wake his father.

It was their first night in the new house, in their new town with new people.

After losing his mommy, Stiles’s life had changed radically. Despite the fact that people said he was too young to understand the enormity of the situation, he understood it better than expected.

There would be no more hugs, no more Eskimo kisses, no more snacks for school, no more Scrabble wars, no more bedtime stories, no more kind, brown eyes watching him patiently while he stumbled through discovering how to read, how to write, how to ride the bike, and how to tie his shoelaces.

Stiles sobbed into his blankie, feeling the material wet from his tears.

He didn't like the new house. He didn't like that they had to move away. The old house was full of memories of his mommy.

His daddy hadn't gone to work much since it had happened, and he'd drunk quite a lot from the bottle of yucky smelling liquid.

Stiles stifled a gasp of surprise when the door of his room opened.

His daddy was there, looking sleepy and tired. He crossed the room and took a seat on the bed next to him.

“Hey, kiddo. I'm still here.” He rubbed Stiles's back, smoothing a hand through his dark hair.

Stiles burrowed into his dad's chest, openly sobbing.

“Shh.” His daddy rocked them gently, and at some point, Stiles was sure that his daddy was crying, too. “It was stupid of me to think you could sleep on your own in the new house. Come and sleep with me.” He more or less carried Stiles to his big bed.

Stiles snuggled into his daddy, wrapped in his blankie. He was grateful his daddy had remembered to grab his pillow as well, or he doubted he’d have been able to sleep. With his dad's soothing touch, he eventually succumbed to dreamland.

~#~

Noah Stilinski lay awake next to his ten-year-old son.

It had been a wake up call when the principal of Stiles’s old school called to tell him that his usually hyperactive child was isolating himself and barely talking to anyone.

Noah hadn’t thought much of how his son was coping. His world crumbled when the doctor had given him the horrible news.

He’d succumbed to his grief and had found solace in a bottle of whiskey. His job as a deputy in Thousand Oaks, California, was threatened by his lack of presence and devotion.

Claudia would have probably given him a good, old punch in the face for the way he was acting, especially since his actions were hurting Stiles, their precious little boy.

Noah was aware that to heal he needed distance. It took him several weeks to find another job in the law enforcement field. The Beacon Hills County Department was in need of a sheriff after their previous one had retired.

With school out for the summer, Noah had them packed and ready to move in less than a month. One of his new deputies had helped him find a house in Beacon Hills, and after looking at the three pictures Parrish had sent him, Noah chose the blue one.

Claudia used to love that color.

The drive from Thousand Oaks to Beacon Hills took less than five hours. Noah couldn’t part from the last thing that had belonged to Claudia, so he had loaded their lives into her powder blue CJ-5 Jeep.

Stiles had been relatively quiet during the ride, mostly looking out the window and clutching his wolf blanket around his shoulders. Claudia had knitted the thing for him. It was a big, gray blanket and at one end it had a hood with ears. Stiles was in love with the thing.

Noah was used to seeing Stiles always moving, always asking questions, always switching between random subjects, so to see him so still and quiet was worrying.

He gently stroked his son’s hair, looking at how fragile he was, and thinking that he had no idea how to make it better.

~#~

Morning found Stiles flopped on his back, sleeping soundly until a howl was heard from the preserve. The road was the only barrier between their new house and the forest.

Stiles blinked sleepily, remembering he'd been taught in school that there were no wolves in California. The facts were wrong, or it was possible one of their neighbors had a dog with a cold.

He stumbled out of his dad’s bedroom and made his way downstairs, the wolf blankie firmly wrapped around his shoulders like a cape.

His daddy was at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper in front of him.

“Hey, little man. How are you?” His daddy pulled him close, stroking his cheek.

“M'kay. Hungry.” Stiles shrugged, squirming out of the hug and sliding onto the wooden chair.

“We have to go shopping. All we have is bread and butter.”

Stiles accepted his breakfast, knowing he couldn't have Cheerios every day. He washed down his food with simple water.

“And let's not forget this.” His dad placed a white pill next to his refilled glass of water. It was his Adderall pill, which he took for ADHD.

He's had to take pills for his disorder for a couple of years, since it took his parents quite some time to realize Stiles wasn't a total spaz just because he was simply a hyperactive boy. He was suffering from attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, which was a mental disorder.

Stiles didn't understand much of that, but he knew that sometimes it was hard to focus on the task at hand without being distracted; he couldn't pay attention to anything for long lengths of times, and he acted impulsively, which usually landed him in trouble in his former school.

“Ready to start our day? We have lots to do.”

Stiles nodded absently. “When do I start in the new school?”

“So eager to start school?”

“Not really.” Stiles shook his head.

“Well, it’s still summer, kiddo. But that’s one of our stops today. We have to enroll you in the school here, visit my new workplace, go grocery shopping, and most likely meet our new neighbors.” His dad smiled a little, ruffling his hair.

~#~

As the morning progressed, Stiles met his dad’s new colleagues, who offered him candy. He was going to like visiting his dad’s new workplace. His daddy’s old buddies rarely did nice things for him. Now, he’d gotten a whole sprinkled donut from one of the guys, and his pockets were full of wrapped candy.

He ate the donut methodically while his daddy talked to the principal at his new school. When the nice lady smiled at him, Stiles made sure to show her how charming he could be.

It took him a beat to realize why the nice lady and his daddy were laughing. His dad came to his aid with paper tissues, wiping his chocolate-covered mouth.

The trip to the grocery store was filled with heated debates between Stiles and his daddy. Stiles knew more about shopping for food than his daddy, because he used to accompany his mommy all the time. He knew what she used to buy, and his daddy seemed to go for the wrong stuff.

In the end, his daddy allowed Stiles to put whatever he wanted in the cart, but he drew the line at meat and drinks.

Stiles had almost hoped he could sneak some Coke into the cart, but his daddy gave him a stern look, reminding him that he was already pretty agitated without the aid of caffeine.

They left the store with many heavy bags, stuffing them into the backseat of the Jeep. Stiles was surprised when his daddy offered him to ride shotgun. His mommy never allowed him in the front seat.

It was the first time since his mommy’s death that Stiles had smiled so much.

He wasn’t super excited about the new town, but the people were pretty nice. His daddy allowing him to stay upfront next to him showed him how much he trusted him, and that he was practically a grown-up.

“When you turn sixteen, this will be yours,” his dad said as they drove toward their new house.

Stiles’s eyes widened. “For real? I can drive mommy’s car?”

“Not for another six years, kiddo!”

“But the Jeep will be mine!” Stiles clapped. He loved the car.

“If you want it. Of course, you might change your mind when you grow up.”

“No way! I’d love to drive mommy’s car!”

His daddy reached out to pat Stiles’s leg before shifting the gear and turning onto their road.

They spent the whole day unpacking and putting away their shopping.

By bedtime, Stiles was dead on his feet. He insisted that he wanted to sleep in his room like a big boy, but promised to join his daddy if he got afraid like the night before.

~#~

For the rest of the week, Stiles focused on decorating his room.

He placed his toy figurines on the shelves his daddy had put on the wall. He taped his posters to the wall – they were mostly pictures of wolves, since he was super into them.

His parents never understood his obsession with wolves, but they didn’t discourage him from learning all he could about his favorite animal.

His mommy had knitted him the wolf blankie, and his daddy had taken him to the zoo, where they’d spend hours watching the wolves.

~#~

On a night when the full moon was too bright, Stiles couldn’t sleep after having snacked on some sweets one of the deputies had given him earlier in the day when he’d visited his daddy at work.

It had taken a lot of complaining from Stiles, but he’d convinced his daddy that he was a big boy and that he didn’t need a babysitter. He even proved that he could fend for himself by making lunch and taking it to his daddy. Everyone at the police station had been impressed.

Stiles went to the window to look at the moon. He was fascinated with it. He didn’t know if it had anything to do with his love for wolves, or if he simply loved watching the moon, but it always soothed him. It gave him a sense of calm, and lately he felt like his mommy was watching over him.

He noticed movement at the edge of the woods, and leaned over the window, squinting into the darkness.

He gasped, stumbling back and falling on his ass.

There was a wolf. It was no denying that fact. Stiles knew wolves.

He scrambled to his feet to take a better look, but the wolf had disappeared.

In that moment, Stiles knew it hadn’t been his imagination. There had been a wolf howling. And it had sounded extremely sad and lonely.

Stiles decided that he was going to find the wolf. He probably needed a friend.

~#~

Derek Hale couldn’t believe how careless he’d been by allowing that child to see him. He wasn’t even sure what had attracted him to the little blue house. The boy was new in town, because Derek couldn’t remember anyone living in that house for at least a decade.

He walked back to what had once been his house. It didn’t matter that now it was half burnt and in shambles, because it would always be his home and his refuge.

Derek curled near the window, allowing the moon’s rays to keep him calm and in control.

It had been almost three years since the tragedy that had changed his life.

He thought that he’d suffered enough when his first ever girlfriend had died in his arms after he’d foolishly thought he could keep her forever by changing her into a werewolf. He’d learned the hard way that the bite didn’t always take.

His whole family were born werewolves. He’d learned from a young age to lie low, and that it wasn’t okay for people to know about his special abilities. His mother was also his Alpha, and he adored her. His sisters were both annoying, and it didn’t matter that he was the middle child; they always blamed everything on him. Thankfully, his mother could detect lies better than any metal detector.

Then he grew up, thinking he’d never love again, but he fell for the wrong girl. She was from a family of hunters. Their prey were werewolves.

He could still recall coming home from her place to find his house on fire, surrounded by mountain ash to keep his family inside, and preventing him from rushing inside to save them.

It was then that Derek realized his mistake in telling Kate every secret his family had kept treasured for years. She had toyed with him and his innocence, and had used his love for her as an unspeakable weapon to get all the information they needed to decimate his family.

Derek had called the police, desperately telling the operator that his house was burning and his family was trapped inside. His whole family – his parents, his sisters, his uncle.

The searing pain that had shot through his body was something Derek would never forget. His blood began boiling in his veins, and a power greater than anything he’d ever felt ran under his skin. When his claws spurted out and his face shifted into the Beta form, Derek knew.

The next second, he was on the ground seeing the world from a different perspective and in black and white, but enhanced by his clear night vision.

Tentatively he lifted a hand, and a sound like a bark left his throat when he saw a black paw in front of his eyes.

It was clear in that moment. His Alpha, his mother, his mentor, had died. He’d inherited her power. Changing into a real wolf was something only his mother had been able to do.

Derek had become an Alpha at only seventeen. He was a packless Alpha, who had no idea what to do with this new power.

He’d spent all his days and nights in the house with the faux feeling of being close to his family. The family of hunters had left town shortly after the fire, and the police didn’t have any leads in solving the case, so they blamed it on an electrical problem.

Derek had planned revenge on the Argents. If they ever dared to approach his town, they were going to die.

Derek didn’t care about the rumors in town involving him. Some figured he’d skipped town after the tragedy, while some thought he’d braved the flames in hopes of saving his family, only to perish that night, too.

A part of Derek was aware that he could shift back to his human form, but being a wolf was much easier. He had control over his mind, and he didn’t want to face all the pitiful looks he’d most likely get from the people he once knew.

As he lay there under the full moon’s soft rays, Derek asked himself what had drawn him to the new family.

If that little boy told anyone about seeing a wolf, they’d hunt him. It was unlikely they’d find him, and if they did, Derek had to shift back into a human to keep them from killing him without knowing he wasn’t actually a wolf.

His life used to be easy, but in just one night after an impulsive move, it became much more complicated.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite his better judgment, Noah decided against hiring a sitter for his son. At first, he foolishly left him alone during the day, then he pulled in a few night shifts, but he was too tired to spend time with Stiles during the day.

In the end, it was one of his new deputies who suggested he bring Stiles to work. The boy could sit on the couch in the sheriff’s office and color or read.

When Noah broached the idea to Stiles, he wasn’t super excited, but reluctantly agreed.

It was during that week of having Stiles on his couch when Noah understood the gravity of the situation they were dealing with. Stiles, who never sat still for more than five minutes, could now sit without moving for hours. He looked out the window, ignoring the whole world as he locked his thoughts inside his head.

~#~

Noah asked around for a therapist, and he was guided to Dr. Gabriel Valak. There were rumors about some of his methods and his modus operandi, but Noah was desperate.

Stiles refused to talk to him for a full day after he’d told him about therapy.

The doctor said he wanted a session with Stiles before he decided if he could take him as a patient. When Dr. Valak didn’t allow Noah into the room with them, he was certain this whole thing would be a failure.

He waited in a stuffy room, distracting himself with looking over some of the magazines displayed.

He was an adult and even though his grief was like a cloak around him, he knew how to deal with it. In the beginning, everything had been overwhelming and he’d been too weak, but now Noah knew how to deal with the pain.

Stiles was just a child. He had to remind himself of that sometimes. Despite the fact that Stiles was more mature than most kids his age, he was still ten and he’d recently lost his mother. That had to be a hard shock to the system, especially to a sensitive child like his son.

When the door opened, Dr. Valak motioned for him to step inside.

Stiles was on a sofa, his feet dangling off the edge, tears in his eyes and fingers shaky.

“Sheriff, please take a seat.” The doctor pointed to a chair across from his desk.

With another look at his distressed son, he did as he was told. “What’s going on?”

“For starters, your son is aware of what happened. He understands it a lot more than expected. It’s your choice if you want him to spend an hour on my sofa, doing nothing but sat glaring at me, or you can do something that would help to heal him faster.”

Noah looked at his son, now staring at the doctor in resentment. He’d expected as much.

“You see, Sheriff, your son needs a friend. Now, I won’t start dictating your life, but sometimes the best therapy for a child is a pet.”

“Pet?” Noah was starting to doubt the doctor’s abilities.

“Yes. He or she will always be there for him. He’ll find a confidant in the pet.”

“I’m pretty sure that he’s going to make friends this fall when school starts,” Noah muttered.

“A pet is different. I want you to consider this.” Dr. Valak stood up. “As for bringing Stiles here, it’s going to be pointless as long as he refuses to talk to me.”

Noah was about to turn to Stiles and tell him to be cooperative, because it was for his own good, when the doctor stopped next to his chair, leaning down.

“He’s suffering as much as you. It’s understandable, but kids get distracted more easily. A pet will have the power to heal both you and him.”

~#~

Stiles wasn’t sure if he should be excited about the prospect of getting a pet. His mommy used to be allergic to cats, and they had a dog for a short while when one of the K-9s had been shot and needed constant care.

Several days later after the visit to the doctor, on a sunny Saturday, his daddy revealed his plans for the day. They were going to the adoption center to find a pet.

“Can it be a dog, please?” Stiles asked. His mind went back to the wolf he’d seen, and he kept hearing him most nights.

“Anything you want, kiddo. Well, as long as it’s not a lizard or a snake,” his daddy added, shuddering.

Stiles giggled. Only his big and strong daddy would be afraid of snakes.

During the drive to the adoption center, Stiles let himself get excited about the prospect of getting a dog. He started thinking of what kind of dog he wanted, but the wolf’s face kept popping in his mind.

If only he could…

The young man in charge of the animals took them on a tour of the cages, but Stiles didn’t like any dog. Some were really adorable, but all he could think of was the lonely wolf in the woods.

His dad was quiet on the drive back to their house.

“Does this mean I have to see that doctor again?” Stiles asked in a small voice.

“Not if you don’t want to. I found it sketchy enough that he suggested a pet. He’s the doctor. He should have found a way to get you to talk.”

“But I did talk, Daddy! I told him I know what happened and I know that I will never see Mommy again, and it’s going to be just the two of us from now on. He told me I’m smart, and I said that I know that.”

His daddy sent him a proud look, his eyes wet. “Anything else?”

Stiles turned to look out the window. He really liked sitting in the front seat, especially now that they were in his daddy’s new cruiser. It made him feel all-important.

“Stiles?”

“He asked if I’m lonely. I told him I have you; I’ll always have you.”

“That’s true, kiddo.”

“Then he asked if I had any friends,” Stiles mumbled. “I told him that the kids I knew are still back in Thousand Oaks, but no. I never had any real friends.”

“You have your whole life ahead of you to make friends.” His daddy patted his leg. “You remember Billy?”

Stiles nodded. Billy was his daddy’s best friend. He’d visited them a couple of times.

“I met Billy when I was about your age. We’re still talking, even though he lives in Boston now. Friends are for life.”

Stiles beamed. “That’s what I told the doctor. I plan on making friends in this town. All the people here are super nice.”

His father smiled widely as they pulled up in front of their house. “Why don’t you wash your hands and then we’ll make pizza from scratch?”

Stiles clapped, excited to get his hands dirty. He could remember the wars they got into whenever it was pizza day. He and his mommy would ally against his daddy.

~#~

On Monday morning, Stiles refused to wake when his daddy said it was time to get ready for work. He mumbled about being able to be on his own, and that he wanted to sleep.

He was surprised when he opened his eyes the next time to see the sun streaming down his window. A look at the clock above his desk told him it was near noon.

After his usual morning routine, Stiles called his daddy to let him know he was fine and that he was going to read outside.

Armed with a blanket, a book, leftover pizza, and juice, Stiles made his nest on the front lawn under a tree. He got lost in his book, and only looked up from it when dark clouds made it hard to read.

It was too cloudy to read, so he decided to head back inside. When he thought he saw a flash of black at the edge of the woods, he knew what he wanted to do.

His dad wasn’t due home for a few more hours.

Stiles rushed back inside the house and found a flashlight and the color red of his acrylic paints. He planned on marking his way, so he’d know how to get back.

He stood at the edge of the woods and took a deep breath. It wasn’t time to panic. He had a mission – to find the wolf.

The flashlight lit the muddy ground, but Stiles still stumbled over fallen branches, or got tangled in the leaves covering the forest’s bed. His red paint created neat X signs on every other tree.

Stiles tried not to let the shadows and the sounds of the forest scare him, but when a squirrel crossed his path, he screeched, dropping his light. Not too long afterward, it started raining heavily.

He forgot about finding the wolf as he turned back the way he’d come. The rain was falling so hard and fast that it managed to wash out his red markings. He refused to succumb to his fear. All he wanted was to curl under a tree and sob or cry out; he hadn’t decided yet.

~#~

Derek could smell raw fear coming in waves a few feet away from him where the little boy stood in the middle of the path. Rain poured down with no desire to stop any time soon.

At first, when Derek had become aware of being followed, he thought some hunter had decided to return to Beacon Hills, but then he caught the boy’s scent. He kept his distance, unsure of what he was doing.

At the moment, it was clear the boy was lost and close to a panic attack.

From what he’d seen, the boy didn’t seem scared of him. Derek was the reason the boy was lost, because he’d decided to follow him into the woods.

Derek shook water off his fur, hating the wolf’s instinct to repel some of the water from his heavy and wet fur. He was aware it was futile, since it was still raining and he wasn’t into his old house, hiding from the rain.

He walked closer to the boy, slowly and carefully, ready to run the other way if it was a trap somehow.

The boy’s breath hitched, and Derek knew that he’d been spotted.

“Wolfie!” The boy more or less threw himself at Derek.

Derek recoiled, baring his teeth in warning, but the gesture didn’t scare the boy.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m so scared. Can you find the way back to my house?”

Derek stared at him in amazement. This kid should be running the other way, but here he was hugging a wolf and begging it to rescue him. For a fleeting moment, Derek wondered if the boy knew who he was, but he dismissed the thought instantly. The locals weren’t aware that werewolves existed, so a newcomer definitely didn’t know.

Derek nudged the boy’s knee with his muzzle, inspecting how badly he was hurt. The kid must have fallen at some point.

“I’m fine, Wolfie.”

Derek huffed, taking a leap of faith as he steered the boy toward his house, the child’s small fingers clinging to the wet fur around his neck.

They walked in silence for a long time. The boy kept falling because of his shaky limbs. Derek could see him looking around as new waves of fear kept rolling off him.

Derek had no idea what to do to make him feel safe. For the first time in three years, it occurred to him that his human form wouldn’t know how to deal with this situation, either, but it would be a better candidate. Then he could at least hold the boy and reassure him that everything would be okay.

The boy petted his head softly. “You’re really beautiful. I’ve seen you from my window and I heard you howling. You’re lonely, too?”

Derek came to an abrupt halt. The boy's words shocked him; also, his senses kept him on alert when he heard voices close by. They were coming from in front of the kid’s house. It seemed like his father was forming a search party.

Derek nudged the boy to keep walking. He’d deliver him safely to the edge of the preserve before hightailing it back to his old house.

~#~

Noah figured something was wrong from the moment he pulled up in front of his house. Stiles’s blanket and book were under a tree getting soaked by the heavy rain.

The front door was open, and he’d drilled into him to keep it locked when he was home alone.

Fear ate at his insides when he realized his son wasn’t in the house.

He was the sheriff, and he’d had time to look over cases from previous years. There had been no kidnappings in the area. Beacon Hills was a town with the lowest crime rate he’d ever seen.

“STILES!” He shouted desperately, even though his gut told him that his son had ventured into the woods.

He’d seen the longing in his eyes, and he’d told him multiple times that the woods were off limits.

Noah had no idea how long ago Stiles had left, but he was all alone in the dark forest and it was raining. As brave as his son was, Noah knew that Stiles had to be afraid and very cold by now.

He called his colleagues to form a search party. Several cruisers parked in front of his house within minutes. Noah was shouting orders and handing his son’s jacket to the K-9 dogs when Parrish touched his elbow.

“Sir. You have to see this.”

Noah looked up in time to see his son emerging from the woods. His small, bony arms were around a dog’s neck. His knees were bleeding, and even though it was raining, Noah could tell his boy was crying.

“Stiles!” He rushed to him.

The black dog tried ducking away, but Stiles blocked his path, crouching to him and whispering. Then he turned to his dad, smiling through his tears.

“I found my pet,” Stiles declared.

Noah wasn’t sure if it was wise to scream and punish Stiles for his deed, but he didn’t have the heart to do it, either. His son was smiling, and he seemed to like the large dog.

“You didn’t like any of the dogs at the adoption center,” he reminded him.

Stiles gave him a curious look, then shared an almost amused look with his new pet. “This one is special.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please keep the feedback coming. I really love to read your thoughts on my story.


	3. Chapter 3

Tara was one of Noah’s best deputies, coming in a close second after Jordan Parrish. They were the most devoted, and always eager to help their new sheriff.

Tara had told him about the best veterinarian in town when she’d heard he planned on keeping the dog that had saved Stiles from his rendezvous in the woods.

A couple of days after taking the large dog under his roof, Noah confronted the first problem with the animal. It was as if he sensed where they were going, and he’d taken refuge under Stiles’s bed.

“You’re scaring him!” Stiles whined. “Where did you get that collar and leash, anyway?”

“From the station. It’s temporary until we buy him his own collar and leash.” Noah squatted at eye level with the animal. He was afraid to extend his hand too far under the bed, but he patted the floor in front of him, coaxing him out from his hiding spot.

The dog watched him passively, teeth bared, and growling lowly.

“Let me do this. Get out of here, and take those nasty things with you,” Stiles demanded.

“If you plan on leaving the house with him without a collar or leash, you’d better remember that there is a law about that. And I’m the sheriff.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Give me some credit.”

Noah left the room, skeptical of his son’s abilities to make the dog cooperate. He shouldn’t have doubted him.

The dog had been his son’s shadow ever since Stiles had brought him into the house on that fateful, rainy night. There had been a time when Noah was sure the dog was ready to bolt, but when Stiles had wrapped him in two fluffy towels and hugged the life out of him, Noah could see the dog reconsidering his new life.

Their trip to the veterinarian would prove his guess that the dog was a stray, and that he’d become theirs. Stiles was in love with him, as it was.

So far the dog had slept on the sofa, shedding too much black hair, but he spent his days with Stiles in his room. Thus his hiding under Stiles’s bed when he’d seen the collar in Noah’s hand.

“Here we are!” Stiles beamed.

The dog seemed to have accepted his fate. He stood at his son’s feet, tail between his hind legs, eyes boring into Noah’s as if he were glaring at him.

“Now you try with the collar.”

“Must we, Daddy?”

“We must. I’m not going to be seen with an unleashed dog.”

“Sorry, buddy,” Stiles mumbled, turning to stroke his hands through the dog’s fur. They had a silent conversation while staring into each other’s eyes, then the dog bent his head. Stiles buckled the collar and attached the leash.

During the drive to the clinic, Stiles reassured the dog it was going to be okay and that if he was a good boy, he’d sleep with him that night.

The dog didn’t look impressed. He appeared offended to be stuck in the back of the cruiser.

~#~

Derek wasn’t sure why he’d decided to stay with this family.

It was true that the fearless boy was as lonely as him, but he wasn’t a damn dog. The kid – Stiles, as his dad called him – knew he wasn’t a dog, but his dad kept calling him a dog.

Derek hadn’t thought further than finally having a warm spot to sleep in and a solid roof above his head. Of course, Stiles’s dad wanted to take him to the vet. He had no idea how his body would react to dog shots, but there had been no escaping the trip.

Inside the clinic, he sat at Stiles’s feet, completely ignoring the fact that all the other animals were afraid of him. It was their instinct to be scared of a werewolf.

When it was their turn and they stepped into the exam room, Derek froze in the doorway. He should have thought of Alan Deaton. He used to be his family’s emissary, their mentor and guide. Alan stared at him in surprise, and Derek shook his head, realizing his eyes were glowing. He had to get a grip on himself, but the pain of being around someone that once knew his family was too great.

Derek sat close to Stiles while both the boy and his dad explained to Alan how he had come to live with them, and that they wanted to check if he was chipped or just a stray. Derek shot Alan a panicked look when he heard the words shot and chip being brought up in the same conversation.

Thankfully, Alan managed to convince the Stilinskis to wait outside, because too many people scared their dog. Derek appreciated that Alan winced when he called him a dog.

Stiles put up a fight, kicking and screaming that he wanted to stay and warning the vet not to hurt his wolf, but his dad managed to pull him out of the room, apologizing profusely for his son’s behavior. Derek could hear Noah chiding his son in the waiting room, while Stiles sobbed loudly.

“Wolf, huh?” Alan squatted down to Derek’s level.

Derek lowered his head, lifting his shoulders, hoping Alan understood that the gesture was a sort of shrug.

“You’ve been in town all this time?”

Derek nodded.

“Where did you stay? In the woods?”

Derek nodded.

Alan patted the side of his neck. “I’m so sorry, kiddo. What happened to the Hales was horrible. If I’d known you were around…”

Derek whined low in his throat.

“I bet you don’t want to hear about it. So you plan on becoming the new sheriff’s pet?” Alan asked casually, heading to his desk. “Any intention on returning to us?”

Derek followed him, but refused to give him any kind of answer.

Alan finished writing at his desk, then turned to Derek. “I still have to check you for fleas, so hop on the table.”

What felt like a lifetime later, Alan brought back his new family. It surprised Derek to think of them as his new family, but they’d been kind to him. Especially Stiles.

The boy hugged him tightly from the moment he barged into the room, and didn’t let go until Alan was done talking to Noah. Alan had forged his documents and he’d skipped the shots. Derek couldn’t be happier about that detail.

“I need something from you, Stiles. I left the line for his name blank. Any idea what you want to call him?” Alan asked gently.

Stiles blinked, hypnotized, as he petted Derek’s head. He shrugged his little shoulders. Tension radiated from him.

“You can call him anything you want, as long as it’s not something ridiculous like Blackie,” Noah advised him with a laugh.

Stiles squared his shoulders, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to name him Wolfie.”

Derek’s head shot up and caught Alan’s surprised look.

Stiles had called him Wolfie when they had first met in the woods. Stiles knew he was a wolf.

“That’s unusual,” Noah commented.

“He looks like a wolf. You know how much I love wolves,” Stiles defended the name choice.

Derek decided to show Stiles he liked his new name. He nudged the boy’s jaw with his muzzle, licking his cheek.

“He likes it!” Stiles cried out, squeezing around Derek’s neck harder. “It will be our little secret,” Stiles whispered into his ear.

Derek couldn’t help but flick his ears, as crazy thoughts rushed through his mind.

The boy couldn’t know who he was, _what_ he was. Stiles simply thought he was a wolf, and he’d protect his secret, because everyone thought he was a large dog.

~#~

“Stiles, how long does it take you to choose a collar?”

Stiles looked up at his daddy, before focusing on the task at hand. They were in a dog shop, and he’d taken Wolfie to the collar section. At the moment, Stiles was in the process of showing various collars to his wolf, but he didn’t seem to like any.

“It’s difficult, Daddy. Wolfie doesn’t like them.”

“You’re kidding, right? He’s just a dog.”

“Well, he has personality,” Stiles retorted, placing back on the rack a collar with colored bones painted on it.

Wolfie gave him a pleading look.

“I’m so sorry, buddy. We have to choose one,” Stiles whispered.

His daddy snatched a regular black leather collar and a common black leather leash. “Done. There. I’ve got special bowls and a basket. The doctor said we should feed him whatever we eat, though I’m skeptical.”

“I bet he’d love some meat,” Stiles suggested. He winked at Wolfie, and got a smile from his wolf.

Stiles wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he could swear that the wolf indeed smiled at him.

On the ride back home, Wolfie snoozed in the backseat. When they arrived, Stiles opened his door.

Wolfie jumped out of the car. He looked longingly toward the woods, then trotted to a hidden spot behind some trees.

“I had no idea dogs were all about intimacy when they did their business,” his daddy commented.

“Wolfie is different.”

“Indeed he is.” His dad carried their purchases inside, leaving the front door open.

Stiles took his time in taking his shoes off, so he’d be sure Wolfie came inside. Wolfie appeared in the doorway, shooting him a curious look.

Stiles beamed, stroking his head, then he closed the front door.

Wolfie went to the sofa, jumping on it and coiling up, taking most of the space. Stiles sat next to him, his feet dangling off the edge.

He distracted himself by watching TV, but eventually Wolfie’s snores became too amusing.

“Lunch is ready,” his daddy announced. “What’s so funny?”

“Wolfie is snoring. He’s adorable.”

His dad looked at Wolfie, listening to him for a moment, then shook his head. “I bet he wouldn’t appreciate you calling him adorable. Now, go wash your hands and come to the kitchen.”

Stiles rushed to the bathroom and when he returned, he found the couch empty. Wolfie was in the kitchen, staring incredulously at his metal bowl. There was a large bone with some meat on it.

“Are you sure he’s allowed bones?” Stiles asked, worried. “I had a classmate who gave his dog bones, and he got sick. His vet said bones aren’t good for dogs, despite what cartoons teach us.”

“Well, that’s what he’s eating today. I planned on buying his own food, but since Dr. Deaton recommended actual food…”

“Exactly, Daddy! Look, he doesn’t even like the bone.”

Wolfie came to sit by Stiles’s chair, placing his head on his knees.

“It’s okay, boy. Want a meatball?”

“Stiles! If one of those meatballs ends up in his mouth, you’re in trouble.” His daddy narrowed his eyes at him.

Stiles bit on half a meatball, allowing the other half to fall onto his lap. Wolfie nosed at it, then lapped it up in his mouth. Stiles thought he was sneaky about it, but then he noticed his daddy watching them.

Wolfie’s ears were plastered to the back of his head and his eyes were full of sorrow.

“Come on, Daddy! He’s hungry.”

Surprisingly, his daddy didn’t comment again, but didn’t show his approval, either.

After eating, Stiles took Wolfie into his room. He grabbed a book and lounged on the bed. Wolfie curled up at his feet, snoozing.

It was dark outside when Stiles came around. He’d fallen asleep while reading. After checking the clock, he found out it was near ten at night.

“I bet you want outside, right?” He asked Wolfie, and received an eager nod and whine.

Aware his daddy was sleeping, Stiles crept downstairs, opening the backdoor for Wolfie. While he did his business, Stiles raided the fridge for a snack.

He found the leftover meatballs and bread rolls. He shared his meal with Wolfie when he came back.

Wolfie ate from his hand. Stiles found it fascinating how careful he was when he lapped the food from his palm. Stiles was aware how sharp Wolfie’s fangs were, but he also knew that Wolfie wouldn’t hurt him.

They returned to his room, and after a trip to the bathroom and changing into his pajamas, Stiles got under the blanket with Wolfie draped over his legs.

“I guess that doctor knew what he was saying,” he mumbled, stroking his fingers through the wolf’s fur. “You take my mind off my sad life. Maybe it’s because you’re sad, too, and you understand.”

Wolfie tilted his head in his direction as if paying attention to his words.

“You’re so smart, Wolfie. I’m sure Mommy would have liked you.” Stiles shuffled closer, hugging his wolf. “I miss Mommy so much.”

Wolfie stiffened under his touch, but Stiles wasn’t ready to let go of him. “You make me feel safe and alive. Daddy is trying, but it will be a while until we find a balance. I’m so glad we found each other, Wolfie.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

“You better take care of him, you hear me?”

Derek stared intensely at Stiles’s dad. The man had given him his undivided attention, which meant it was serious.

“If you see him sad, you have to cheer him up. I’m really curious how he spends his days on his own here, but now that you’re with him, I feel a little better.”

Derek shied away from the hand reaching to touch him. He only allowed Stiles to handle him, because he was a child and he needed someone there for him.

“Fine, be like that. At least you like Stiles. And for unknown reasons he’s smitten with you.”

Then Derek was on his own. The sheriff left for work, and Derek remained behind to bide his time until Stiles woke up.

He curled up outside the house, taking advantage of the backdoor being open. While he sat under the sun’s warmth, he tried to remember how he used to spend his days. Besides wandering the woods for small game and simply to stretch his legs, Derek stayed mostly locked up in his house, isolated.

He thought back on what Stiles’s dad had said, and then he thought of what Stiles had said the prior night.

Stiles’s small, heartbroken voice had twisted Derek’s heart. He’d learned that Stiles had lost his mom, too. He was much younger than Derek had been when it had happened, and Derek made it his goal to help him get better.

If he had to return to his human self, he’d do it, but only because he could see how much Stiles suffered. From what he’d seen during his time with this family, the sheriff loved his son unconditionally, but like Stiles had said the previous night, it would be some time before they learned how to live without his mom.

Derek admired the sheriff for having the strength to go on and bring his son up the best way he could. He could still remember the raw fear he’d smelt on the man when he and Stiles had come out of the woods that rainy night.

“Wolfie!”

Stiles’s panicked voice had Derek springing up and dashing back into the house. They bumped into each other at the backdoor.

“Oh, Wolfie! You scared me.” Stiles crouched to hug him around the neck. “I know you’re a wolf, but I know you’re a lone wolf. Of course, I’m sure there’s a law out there against keeping a wolf in a house, but I really like you.”

Derek nosed at Stiles’s neck, for the first time allowing the boy’s scent to wash over him.

“If you want to go back in the forest, I’ll understand.” Stiles pulled away enough to look into his eyes. “But I’ll be extra sad if you decide that. So far, you’re my only friend in this town.”

Derek butted his muzzle to the boy’s shoulder, then rested his head against his neck, sighing loudly.

“You like it here, huh? You like living with us?”

Derek rubbed his head against Stiles’s neck and shoulder to express his feelings.

“Well, I like having you here, too. But I want you to know that if domestic life gets the best of you… you have the option to leave. I’ll know what happened if I wake up one day and you’re not here.”

The boy’s trembling voice cemented Derek’s decision to never leave him, and to do everything in his power to make him get better.

Derek licked Stiles’s cheek, catching his nose under his tongue, too. Stiles giggled. Then he sprung up and he was moving around the kitchen talking about food.

Derek had already eaten some bacon when the sheriff had dropped it from his plate by mistake, but Derek was onto him. He hadn’t eaten real food in years. To taste bacon again was an experience he cherished.

Stiles shook a box of cereal in front of his eyes, raising a brow. Derek followed the movement, hoping he wasn’t serious. How could he eat cereal with milk? He hoped that leaving the kitchen was answer enough in his decision against such a breakfast.

“Fine. Be a sourwolf.”

Derek wished he could laugh. He was learning fast that Stiles was a funny, hyper, yet forlorn young boy.

He lay near the couch while Stiles sat on it, eating his breakfast and watching cartoons.

Some time later, Stiles disappeared up the stairs. Derek kept an ear on him, but decided he was just fine in the bathroom.

When Stiles didn’t make it back downstairs after his time in the bathroom, Derek chose to check on him.

He nudged the ajar door of Stiles’s bedroom with his muzzle. The boy was at his desk on the laptop. Derek looked at the screen, confused as to why Stiles was searching wolves.

Derek had come to understand that Stiles had a bit of an obsession with wolves, judging by the posters all over his room and the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders.

“Hey, boy. Sorry I left you all alone. I figured you were sleeping.”

Derek huffed, walking closer and resting his head on Stiles’s knees.

“I wonder how you got here. It says on this website that the gray wolf likely disappeared from California in the 1920s due to being eradicated. Did you walk from some other state, then? Were you running from your bad past?”

Derek looked up at him, only moving his eyes.

“It’s okay. I bet you’ve have a horrible past to end up on your own. Though, you don’t have a lone wolf’s behavior at all.” Stiles petted his head and neck. “It’s known that a lone wolf is stronger, more aggressive, and far more dangerous than a wolf that is a member of a pack. Well, one of these is true,” Stiles averred, making Derek tilt his head to look at him. “You’re stronger. Your pain made you stronger. I wish I’d learn how to cope with my pain, too. But shh. Let this be our little secret.”

Derek gently clamped his mouth around Stiles’s pants, tugging him out of the chair.

“What is it? You want out?”

Derek kept pulling, his tail swishing from side to side on its own accord. When he couldn’t convince Stiles to leave his room, Derek dropped on his front legs, letting out a few low barks. Derek had learned over time that the sounds he made were deeper and longer than a regular dog.

“What, boy? Sadly, I don’t speak wolf.”

Derek let out half a whine, half a bark, going to the door then returning to Stiles’s side. When Stiles still seemed to be utterly confused, Derek rushed to the window. He propped himself on the windowsill with his front paws and howled.

“Oh, my GOD! Shhh!” Stiles finally got out of his chair. “Do you want to play outside?”

Derek returned to his side, tongue lolling out.

“Huh. Who would have thought a wolf was so playful? I only have a ball and a baseball bat.”

Derek barked, half nodding, to show he agreed with the choice of toys.

He kept Stiles outside on the front lawn, playing catch and then lively chasing him down the road a couple of times. When the sheriff returned, they were on a blanket outside, sunbathing.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been here doing nothing the whole day!”

Stiles didn’t move an inch. He was sprawled on the blanket with his head propped against Derek’s shoulder. “This beast is set to kill me,” he mumbled. “Did you feed him something rotten? I think he’s possessed.”

“What?” The sheriff stared at them, alarmed.

Stiles opened his eyes, squinting at his dad. “He wanted to play, then we ran around. I don’t run. Can someone explain this to Wolfie?”

Derek huffed out, wishing again he could laugh in his wolf form. Stiles running. The sight had shocked him when he’d first witnessed it. The boy had no idea what to do with his limbs, throwing them in all directions. What Stiles did wasn’t running; it looked like someone doing some native dance calling for rain, or some insanity like that.

The sheriff relaxed, laughing loudly. “Well, I bet Wolfie has a lot of energy. Look what a big guy he is.”

“Next time he can run laps on his own. I’ll stay on the side of the road, cheering him.”

Derek whined, shifting under Stiles’s weight. It wasn’t like the boy was heavy, but he wanted to have better access at his face, where he licked two, long swipes.

“Aww. Come on, Wolfie. We can play catch, but nothing else.”

Derek let him think he’d won.

~#~

Stiles lay on his blanket, baseball cap on his head, ice cream in hand, while he watched Wolfie chasing a grasshopper around the front lawn.

His days had become increasingly more interesting since Wolfie kept him company. Stiles rarely let his dark thoughts and sorrow get the best of him. Wolfie seemed to sense when he was down, and he always did some silly trick to make him laugh, like the other night when they were in bed. Stiles was curled up, wrapped in his wolf blankie, wanting to tune out the world. He’d been hit hard during dinner that evening by how much he missed his mommy when his daddy hadn’t done the poached eggs just right.

Wolfie and his sixth sense had intervened to make him feel better. After having nudged him without getting a response from him, Wolfie pulled the pillow out from under Stiles’s head. The gesture had gotten a loud cry of protest from Stiles, and when he’d turn to tell Wolfie he didn’t want to play, the pillow had smacked him in the face. They ended up pulling at the pillow until it ripped and they were both covered in small feathers. Wolfie had sneezed several times, before curling up at the foot of the bed, watching Stiles sadly.

That had been Stiles’s pillow – which he couldn’t sleep without. Stiles had coaxed Wolfie further up the bed, explaining that since he’d ruined his favorite pillow, he had to become his pillow.

Stiles smiled at the memory, watching Wolfie return to him. He opened his mouth and dropped a grasshopper on Stiles’s lap.

“Aww. You shouldn’t have.” Stiles laughed, picking up the wet bug. He shrieked when the poor insect realized it was free and hopped away.

In his moment of distraction, Wolfie had wrapped his mouth around his ice cream cone. Stiles was sure the cool sweet was definitely not something for any animal.

Wolfie froze, his eyes bugging out, and for a moment, Stiles thought he saw them flashing red. Then Wolfie shook his head, sneezing.

“Lesson learned. Ice cream is not for wolves.” Stiles stroked his fur softly. “Go drink some water.”

Wolfie disappeared into the house, still sneezing.

Stiles couldn’t get enough of his wolf. He was adorable and playful and he knew what to do to cheer him up when he felt down.

Wolfie had been a part of their family for only a few short weeks, but Stiles felt as if he’d been part of their family for years.

~#~

On the full moon night, Stiles woke up to find his wolf at the window. Wolfie was standing on his hind legs, his front paws propped on the windowsill and his eyes on the moon.

Stiles figured wolves were connected with the full moon’s energy. It was probably why Wolfie had been extra agitated during the day.

“Hey, Wolfie!”

Stiles stifled a gasp when Wolfie turned to him. His eyes were a deep red, like blood. Then he blinked and they were the usual pale blue-green.

Stiles was definitely going crazy.

Wolfie trotted back to the bed, jumping up and curling at Stiles’s side. Stiles stroked his back, placing his head against Wolfie’s shoulder. He loved falling asleep wrapped in his soft fur.

In his dreams there was a large black wolf standing on the stump of a large tree. Try as he might, Stiles couldn’t get closer to the stump or the wolf. The more he tried, the further away they became. He was sure the wolf was his Wolfie, but the meaning of his dream was unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please share your thoughts on the chapter :)


	5. Chapter 5

 

“Come on, kiddo. Wolfie will be here when you return from school.” Dad urged Stiles to separate from the hug he was sharing with his wolf.

Wolfie had one of his paws on Stiles’s shoulder, which made Stiles squeeze him harder. He was going to miss him terribly.

As excited as he was to start fifth grade, Stiles wished he could bring Wolfie with him.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, kissing between Wolfie’s eyes.

Wolfie licked his cheek.

~#~

Stiles slumped in the passenger seat of the cruiser, watching Wolfie running along with the car until they hit the main road. Then he looked in the side mirror until he couldn't see Wolfie anymore.

“He’ll be fine, Stiles. And so will you. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled you’ve found a pet, but it’s not healthy to spend all your time with him.”

“Wolfie is my friend, Dad.”

“I’m sure he is, but now you have the opportunity to make some real friends.”

Stiles refused to start another argument with his dad about Wolfie being a real friend. The only downside was that he couldn’t answer back. Wolfie was super smart. He understood everything Stiles said, and even anticipated what he needed or wanted. It was uncanny at times.

After saying goodbye to his dad, Stiles made his way into the school. It didn’t take him long to befriend another boy from his class.

Scott McCall was somewhat similar to Stiles. He lived only with his mom, since his dad had left them. He wasn’t popular, and others seemed to pick on him a lot. Stiles could relate. He hadn’t been super popular in his old school, and he definitely didn’t have any friends.

Stiles saw great potential in Scott. He was an amazing candidate for becoming best friends.

~#~

Derek wasn’t used to being restless and antsy. He’d grown so used to having Stiles around all the time that the beginning of the school year had taken him by surprise.

Eight hours felt like a lifetime of waiting for Stiles to return home.

Derek sat on the porch, his mind racing as he thought of the past month of his life. He’d more or less become a pet, but thankfully, Stiles didn’t consider him a typical pet. He talked to him about anything, and he could tell the boy always tried to hide his amazement when he understood everything he said.

Derek was aware that he’d slipped in maintaining his control. Several of those times were witnessed by Stiles.

The boy had yet to investigate further why his wolf’s eyes were sometimes red, because Derek knew that Stiles had seen them.

~#~

Derek smelled Stiles from the moment he stepped off the bus on the main street. He was on his feet and running to greet his friend before he was fully aware of what he’d done.

Stiles beamed, crouching and opening his arms in the middle of the dirt road.

Derek came to a skidding halt in front of the boy, placing his front paws on his shoulders and licking at his face enthusiastically. Stiles fluffed his fur, patting his side.

“I’ve missed you loads, Wolfie.”

Derek sniffed at his neck. The boy had made a friend, because he smelled all wrong. But Derek planned on rectifying that problem by rubbing all over Stiles.

In the days following Stiles’s first day of school, they both found a new pattern around Stiles’s school hours. They snoozed for ten minutes in bed every morning until the sheriff knocked loudly on the door, urging Stiles to get his ass out of bed. Derek bid his time while Stiles was at school. He either slept on and off throughout the day, or escaped the house through the back door and ventured into the woods, simply walking around, or he merely lazed around on the couch, sometimes watching TV to kill time. In the evening, they spent every moment together – whether Stiles was doing homework, or just watching TV with his dad, Derek stayed close, always with his head on the boy’s lap. At night, Stiles told him all about his day until he drifted off to sleep.

~#~

It was several weeks after the beginning of school before Derek experienced fear for the first time in a long while.

He heard the bus approaching, but it didn’t stop to drop Stiles off at the corner of the street. For a few minutes, Derek tried convincing himself it might have been some other bus, not the school bus. But he knew the exact sounds the vehicle made.

Without any trace of remorse, he decided to go in search of his boy. It wasn’t like Stiles to miss the bus.

Derek walked close to the edge of the woods, and when he couldn’t use the forest’s cover, he slunk close to the ground. He had no idea what scared him about being seen in the open, but some people might see him as a wolf, not a large dog like the sheriff.

He picked up Stiles’s scent at a house off the main street, a couple blocks away from home.

Derek circled around the house. He could hear Stiles talking excitedly with another boy. It could be Scott. Stiles had told him all about his new friend.

Not liking the fact that he’d been forgotten, Derek sat on the porch and howled loudly. He heard Scott’s panicked voice and Stiles’s squeal. A moment later, the front door opened.

“Wolfie!” Stiles stared at him surprised, but pleased. “What are you doing here?” Stiles looked up and down the street. “Did you follow me here by scent?”

Derek hung his head dejectedly. He was embarrassed by his juvenile reaction to Stiles not being home on time, but he wasn’t used to the boy not being there when the bus arrived.

“Hey, Scott! Come meet my Wolfie!” Stiles shouted over his shoulder. “It’s okay. I have a project with Scott.”

Scott appeared in the doorway, watching the wolf on his doorstep a little warily. Derek could tell the boy was freaked out.

Stiles, on the other hand, was beside himself with happiness. He begged Scott to allow Wolfie to stay with them, telling him how docile and friendly he was.

Derek sat at Stiles’s side while the boys worked on their project. They were sprawled on the carpet in the living room.

~#~

By the time they left, Derek was friends with Scott, too. Scott had been nice enough to put some chips on a plate for him, and it was all he needed to win Derek over. Stiles joked that he sold himself cheap, and Derek faked biting at Stiles’s leg. He pretended to be upset about being called cheap, but it didn’t last for long.

They shared a bag of marshmallows on their way home. Stiles’s dad was in the kitchen and started scolding his son from the moment they stepped into the house. If Stiles planned on studying at his friend's house, he had to call his dad. To Derek’s surprise, the sheriff didn’t bring up his absence from home, or the fact that he’d returned with Stiles.

After that day, Derek made it a habit to walk to school at random hours and check on Stiles. Sometimes, he spent lunch break with the boys, eagerly eating their food that they shared with him.

He still visited his old house, but the pain of being in that place had reduced greatly.

On his visits to Deaton, Alan encouraged him to find the will to return to his human form. He explained to him that the longer he stayed in his wolf form, the harder it would be to find a good reason to be human.

Derek knew that the best reason to return was Stiles, but so far, he wasn’t ready to be a human again. He’d been thinking a lot about shifting back, but he had to figure out how to do it and when to do it.

He couldn’t simply become a human while Stiles and the sheriff were gone. When they’d return home, they would find an unknown man in their house.

Derek had to thread carefully about timing his shifting, but so far, he was content with his new life. Stiles was a bright, young boy. A part of Derek wished Stiles would discover what Derek was, so he could start planning his shifting back.

~#~

It was late in the day on a Saturday when Noah woke up after returning home in the early hours of the morning. He’d pulled a few night shifts, but he hated leaving Stiles to fend for himself, and he especially hated to leave him alone at night. The dog was loyal to a fault, but he was just a dog.

Noah found his son and his dog in the living room playing Twister. He thought he was still asleep for a wild moment. They were a twisted mess of limbs.

He might have made some noise, because they both looked up at him. Stiles lost balance, which made the dog the winner. Wolfie barked loudly and did laps around Stiles.

Noah could see Stiles was upset he’d lost, but he also loved seeing his dog happy.

“Having fun?” He asked, coming to Stiles’s side and ruffling his hair.

“Yeah. I have yet to find a game that Wolfie can’t beat me at,” Stiles mumbled.

“Try chess.” Noah replied with a wink.

Wolfie bumped his head into his thigh, tail swishing back and forth. He’d grown to accept his touch.

“You guys hungry?”

“We had cereal with milk,” Stiles said, beaming. “Well, Wolfie had only cereal. He loves to crunch them in his teeth.”

Noah shook his head. They definitely had an atypical dog.

“Then how about we play something together? You can choose any game you want, kiddo. I’m going to get washed up and I’ll be back soon.”

“I can make you coffee,” Stiles offered, picking himself up off the floor.

“If you want to do that…”

“Sure, Daddy!” He sprinted toward the kitchen.

Noah smiled at the dog. “Thank you so much. You’re wonderful for him.”

Wolfie preened, trotting after Stiles, tail wagging.

They ended up playing cards, Noah against Stiles and his dog. To his amusement, the dog kept pawing at the cards in Stiles’s hand, but when Stiles put down the correct card, it made Noah wonder when his son had gotten so good at cards. The dog couldn’t really know what he was doing.

There was definitely something odd about the animal, but Noah had yet to pinpoint the problem. There were times when he acted more human than animal. There were moments, too, when Noah could almost see the wisdom behind the blue-gray eyes. Dogs were descendants from wolves. Noah knew how smart wolves were from his son’s obsession.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Time passed faster than Derek thought possible.

He was fascinated by watching Stiles grow up. The boy left behind the baby fat on his face and stomach, turning into a gangly teenager. Derek tried not to laugh whenever the boy’s voice broke. He could tell how much Stiles hated it. The poor boy was embarrassed by everything teenagehood threw at him – voice breaking, uncoordinated limbs, spontaneous erections, morning wood, teenage angst.

Derek stayed loyal and faithful through it all.

Stiles had strengthened his relationship with his dad, and they were stronger than Derek had ever seen them. Despite Noah being the sheriff, he understood his son was growing up and needed some freedom. He allowed him to stay out until nine, and to make his own mistakes.

During Scott’s visits, Derek found out that Stiles was into some girl who was way out of his league. To Derek, it seemed that it was more the dream of getting her than actually being with her.

He could relate. Derek could clearly remember his troubled teenage years.

**~#~FLASHBACK~#~**

Stiles slammed the door of his room shut.

He was done with the way his dad thought that he could control him and baby him. He’d be thirteen in a few weeks. He definitely didn’t need to be seen in public with his dad, especially when his dad was set to embarrass the hell out of him.

What had started out as a harmless shopping trip had turned into the worst experience to date for Stiles.

His dad wouldn’t allow him to get a new brand of shower gel, insisting they could use the same thing. Same went with shampoo. Stiles was definitely over sharing things with his dad. He was old enough to develop his own tastes.

As if that hadn’t been embarrassing enough, his dad refused to let Stiles buy more chocolate. His argument had been stupid: if Stiles didn’t allow him to eat unhealthy food, he shouldn’t eat it, either.

Stiles was a growing boy. He didn’t have health problems.

All of it had been witnessed by half of the town.

When they arrived home, Stiles started screaming that he wanted more freedom and the right to buy whatever he wanted.

His dad was confused about where all the anger was coming from, and had the audacity to ask if Stiles had been slacking in taking his pills. That had been all he needed to push past his dad and storm into his room.

“Shit!” Stiles kicked at the small ball, making it roll under the bed.

Wolfie looked up from where he was curled on the bed.

“Why can’t he understand me?”

Stiles started kicking at everything that crossed his path, then continued by knocking over his pens from the desk, and tipping the chair backwards.

“That’s enough, Stiles!” His dad yelled from the bedroom door.

“I’m done with the way you’re babying me! I’m old enough to make my own decisions!”

Dad threw his hands up in the air. “We never had a problem with what products we used before.”

“Well, that was before!” Now his armpits smelled bad.

“Stiles…” His dad made his way to him, carefully maneuvering between the mess on the floor. “Kiddo, what happened? Is there a problem?”

“What problem?” Stiles stared at his dad, utterly confused.

“I don’t know. You’ve been all over the place lately.”

Stiles shrugged. “I just wish you’d listen to my opinions. I’m old enough to know what I want.”

“I always listen to you.”

“No, you don’t, Dad. If you did, you’d have allowed me to buy what I wanted. And this is not all about this shopping trip. Can’t you understand how embarrassing it is when you pick me up from Scott’s in the cruiser?”

Dad gasped. “I thought you liked it.”

“Sure. Last year.”

“Do we need to sit down and have a talk about becoming a teenager?”

Stiles looked away, his lips quirking up when he saw Wolfie stretching and yawning, looking bored as hell.

“Well, I can tell I have problems with my anger, maybe more than other kids. Maybe we should visit a doctor and see if we switch Adderall with something else.”

Dad nodded, watching him with intrigue.

“I’ve grown up so much, I wonder why we bother buying new clothes when I’m going to outgrow them in a few months. Again.”

“No one wants to see your white, scrawny ass.”

“Hey! My ass isn’t scrawny.” Stiles protested, his arms flailing around. “Anyway, there’s something else.”

Dad gave him a long look. “What is it?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Try me.”

“I’ve grown.” His voice cracked horribly, only to prove that he wasn’t the same little boy his dad seemed to see when he looked at him.

“We covered that.”

“Here.” Stiles gesticulated toward his groin area. “And sometimes… it, uh, twitches. It gets bigger and hard.”

At that point, his dad closed his eyes and mumbled to himself.

“What? Is it okay? Is there something wrong with me?”

“Oh, God. Stiles.” Dad pulled him in a hug. “You’re perfectly fine. What happened to the health classes you took? It’s normal.”

“A little more explanation wouldn’t hurt.”

“When did it happen? You're getting an erection.”

“When I was watching a movie with Scott! It popped up and I had to hide in the bathroom for half an hour.”

Dad rubbed his back. “I have no idea how to make this conversation less painful, so here it is. When that happens, you have to take matters into your own hands.”

“DAD!” Stiles moved out of his dad’s arms. “I figured as much. Seriously. There are movies out there. All I’m saying is that I’m older. I know more about a lot of stuff.”

“If you ever have any questions, I’m here. I hope you know that we are close enough to talk about anything.” His dad squeezed his shoulder, then left his room.

“Oh, GOD.” Stiles fell on the bed next to Wolfie.

~#~

Stiles's room was closed more often than not. Derek raised on his back legs, pressing the door handle. When it didn’t budge, he pressed his body into the door.

“Hold on!” Stiles called out, breathing heavily.

Derek whined. He couldn't tell if his boy was okay or not. His heart was beating erratically, but he didn’t smell hurt. On the contrary, he smelled happy, yet wired up.

Derek pawed at the door.

“God, Wolfie!” The door opened. “Did you ever hear about privacy?”

Derek slipped into the room, looking around, confused, then he turned to Stiles. His nose was a few inches away from the boy’s crotch.

 _Oh_. It took him a moment to understand what Stiles had been doing.

Derek could remember being Stiles’s age and spanking the monkey behind closed doors. For him it had been especially difficult since he used to live with five other werewolves. Privacy wasn’t something he knew a lot about.

“From now on if you find my door locked, you turn the other way. I’ll get you when I’m done.”

Derek huffed, then jumped on the bed. He almost gagged at the wet spot his paw hit.

“Shit.” Stiles ripped the sheet from under him, then cleaned his paw with a paper tissue. His whole face was burning in shame.

**~#~END FLASHBACK~#~**

Five years had passed since Derek had found a home with the Stilinskis.

“Wolfie!” Stiles’s delighted shout made Derek pick his head up from his paws to look at the boy.

By now, Derek knew how easily excited Stiles got. Sometimes it was nothing of interest, other times it was something big.

“Get your furry ass out of the bed! Beacon Hills turned into fairy land! It’s snowing!”

Derek rolled on his side in time to avoid the balled-up hoodie thrown at him.

Teenager Stiles was a force of nature. Derek was too tired to keep up with him most days.

“Duuude! Do I have to drag you out of the bed?”

Derek stood up, shaking his body. There was an unspoken rule about not shaking off excess fur unless he was outside, especially not after bath time. Derek absolutely loathed bath time.

He jumped to the ground and went to Stiles’s side at the window. He lifted on his back legs to get a better view at the white ground and the white fluffs falling from the sky. In all his years in town, it had snowed a total number of three times, but it had never stuck to the ground. Climate was indeed changing.

“Come on!” Stiles slapped the back of his hand to his front, as if Derek was his buddy Scott. “Last one outside gets to be buried in the snow!”

Derek allowed Stiles enough time to fetch his hoodie and locate his boots. When Stiles rushed out of his room, Derek sprinted after him, overtaking him on the stairs, then running outside past a startled Noah who was in the doorway, staring at the snow.

“So not fair!” Stiles complained. “Tell him it’s not fair,” Stiles whined to his dad.

“He’s a dog. I thought you knew by now he’s way faster than you.”

“Fine, stick with him. See if I make you healthy meals again,” Stiles mumbled.

Derek was busy burying his face into the snow to pay much attention to the bickering family. He was on Noah’s side when it involved Stiles’s healthy cooking. He missed the yummy food the sheriff used to make until Stiles grew up enough to start taking care of his dad’s health by cooking suitable meals.

Something wet hit him in the back, and Derek turned around, baring his teeth.

Stiles doubled over in laughter. “Oh, lighten up, Sourwolf!”

Derek turned around, kicking his back legs at the snow, spraying Stiles in it.

“Whoa! Not fair, dude!”

Derek barked, and kept at it until Stiles tackled him to the ground. They rolled around, playing like two kids, until Scott dropped by just as excited as everyone else about it finally snowing in California.

~#~

A couple of days after the roll in snow, Stiles woke up feeling stuffed. His throat was in flames, and he was burning up all over.

Wolfie was wheezing at the foot of the bed, but his ears flicked toward him when Stiles coughed.

“Can you bring Dad?” Stiles nudged his wolf with his toes.

Wolfie shuffled closer, nosing at his neck. Stiles allowed him to do their morning cuddle, before poking him and insisting he should find his dad.

Wolfie could open the door on his own, which proved how smart he was. Not a full minute later, Wolfie returned with his dad in tow.

Dad asserted the damage with a hand on Stiles’s forehead. He chose to bring him something for the fever and some tea, stating if he still didn’t feel better shortly, they’d visit the hospital.

“Can’t you tell Scott’s mom to visit us?” Melissa was a nurse at Beacon Hills Memorial.

“I doubt she’s at our beck and call. I’ll be back with your medicine. Try to get some sleep.”

Wolfie snuggled into his side, watching him warily.

“I’m fine. I guess my body is not used to being out in the cold for so long.”

Wolfie huffed, letting his head rest on Stiles’s stomach.

~#~

As it turned out after Melissa visited him later that day, Stiles didn’t have a minor cold. It was the flu. She pumped him full of antibiotics and put him on a strict regime of what he should eat and drink.

Stiles spent his days in bed, leaving his nest only for bathroom trips and to change his wet clothes after he sweated out his sickness.

Wolfie stayed by his side the whole time, keeping him company.

Stiles felt too sick to read or stare at his laptop, so he played on his phone and talked to Wolfie, like in the beginning of their friendship.

When he finally felt human enough to go back to school, it was difficult to leave Wolfie home alone. But unlike when they had to separate for the first time back when Stiles was ten, Wolfie nudged him out of the house, playfully biting around his ass.

By the end of his week back to school, Stiles managed to get into a fight. He’d never done such a thing, but with the girl he liked dating a total jerk, he felt entitled to show her that he was a better candidate for boyfriend material.

When Stiles overheard Jackson telling his buddies how he’d told Lydia to wait for him by his car after school, but he didn’t plan on leaving school any time soon, Stiles snapped. Scott had tried talking him out of getting into a fight, but it fell on deaf ears.

Stiles ended up with a swollen cheek and a split lip, and Jackson not more than a bruised knuckle.

Wolfie greeted Stiles at the corner of the street. The poor thing was beside himself when he noticed Stiles was hurt. He did laps around him, whining and attempting to jump him and checking the extent of his injuries himself.

Stiles kept placating him, but it didn’t work. Inside the house, they settled on the sofa. Stiles had a frozen bag of peas pressed to his face, while Wolfie lay across his lap.

The wolf had some supernatural power to make him feel better, just like when he’d been sick. Stiles could feel the pain leaving his body as he relaxed.

He dreaded the moment his dad would come home, because he knew that the school had most likely called him by now.

Not even an hour after Stiles had arrived home, his dad returned. He stopped near the sofa, sitting down next to him, slowly so he didn’t jostle the sleeping wolf.

“I want to hear your side of the story.”

Stiles stared at Wolfie, gathering his wits to admit he’d fought for a girl. “It was Jackson. He planned on toying with his girlfriend. He shouldn’t be so mean to her.”

“Let me see if I get this right. Jackson, the high school jock?” His dad raised a brow.

Stiles nodded.

“His girlfriend Lydia; the one that you like.”

Stiles nodded again, but added in his head, _Lydia is my future girlfriend_.

“And you picked a fight with him? Why?”

“Because he was going to stand her up!”

“And that is your problem how?”

“DAD!”

Wolfie flicked his ears, shifting into a better position.

“Look, son, some girls date the high school jock. But some girls wake up one day, and decide they want the nerd.”

“Hey!”

“Let me talk. It’s not your fight to get in the middle of their relationship. Besides, what do you guys know about relationships? You’re fifteen, for God’s sake!”

Stiles refused to answer. He really liked Lydia. She was going to be his one day. He just needed a good plan to make that happen.

His dad left him sulking, saying he was going to prepare dinner.

Stiles noticed Wolfie was awake and watching him sadly. He petted his head absently.

“Why is my life such a mess? I can never have nice things, Wolfie.”

To make a point, Wolfie huffed then butted his muzzle into Stiles’s stomach.

“Right. Sorry. You’re the best thing that happened in my life so far.” Stiles slumped forward over his wolf’s body, resting his good cheek on the wolf’s neck. “But I like this girl. I mean, I have to like her, right? She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

~#~

Stiles had managed to succumb to his blues, and Derek was ready to take his mind off his troubled, teenage life.

He waited until Stiles was done working on his homework. The boy had spent the entire Saturday and Sunday pouring over his computer, typing his essay. It was late in the evening on Sunday when he had it printed out.

That was Derek’s opportunity.

Stiles accepted the ball Derek brought him. They rolled it on the floor for a while, but Derek could see Stiles wasn’t exactly in the mood. He was still sitting in the chair at his desk, gripping the ball so tightly in his hand, Derek feared he’d hurt himself.

Derek stood up on his hind legs, leaning into Stiles. When he wagged his tail, something he barely had control over, he heard Stiles curse loudly. Then Stiles did something unexpected. He slapped Derek, pushing him away.

“You idiot! Look what you’ve done!” Stiles yelled.

Derek asserted the damage. He’d knocked the OJ glass over Stiles’s essay. He felt horrible.

“I’m out of ink! How am I going to have it ready for class first thing tomorrow morning?”

Derek moved his tail between his legs, head down.

“Get out of here!” Stiles threw the ball at him, hitting him in the side.

Derek headed downstairs. Noah thought he wanted outside and opened the back door for him. Derek ducked between Noah’s legs out of the house, away from the anger waves rolling off Stiles.

After wetting his favorite tree, Derek chose to let Stiles cool down. He could still hear him muttering and cursing him for ruining his hard work.

Derek wandered to his former house, a place he hadn’t visited in a while. He was thinking more and more about shifting back.

Sometimes it was difficult to deal with moody Stiles, especially on times like tonight.

~#~

When Derek returned to the Stilinski home, he found the back door locked. One of them had probably locked up without knowing Derek hadn’t gotten back inside the house. Or maybe Stiles was _that_ upset.

The thought of Stiles rejecting him on such a level cut at Derek’s heart. He seriously hadn’t meant to knock over the glass.

The glass was on the edge of the desk. His tail touched it. It tipped and fell on the essay, a chain reaction he had no control over.

In that moment, Derek totally understood why dogs feigned innocence when they were guilty of tearing up the couch, and they seemed to say that the couch attacked them, instead of taking the blame.

The thought that he could find sense in a dog’s mentality scared Derek. Maybe Alan was right. The longer he stayed a wolf, the more animal he’d become.

Derek walked to the front of the house, checking the door and finding it locked, as it should be so late at night. Then he looked at Stiles’s window. It was open.

Chances were slim that he’d miss such an easy jump, but he didn’t plan on upsetting Stiles any further. Though, the prospect of sleeping outside wasn’t in his favor. Derek had grown used to sleeping with Stiles.

He listened carefully. The boy’s heart was beating a little faster than usual, but Derek figured he was still angry.

How long until Stiles or Noah realized he wasn’t inside? With Stiles upset at him, probably in the morning.

Derek walked backwards toward the forest, his eyes on the open window on the second floor.

 _It’s now or never,_ he thought before he broke into a run, then jumped.

Derek landed on top of Stiles, who was on his floor, doing push-ups.

Stiles screamed loudly, scrambling out from under the wolf, shaking in fright.

They held eye contact, until Derek cowered under Stiles’s bed, realizing he’d overstepped a huge line. If Stiles was suspicious of him before, he surely figured there was something unnatural going on with his wolf.

Noah came to check on his son and find out what the thud had been and why he’d screamed. Stiles lied to his dad that he’d fallen off the bed, and he must have been half asleep. Noah made sure he was okay, before leaving.

Stiles dropped on his stomach, catching Derek’s eyes. His heart skipped a beat, and Derek shut his eyes. They were probably red. The full moon was approaching, and he couldn’t control his nature around that time of the month.

“Get out of there, you big furball!” Stiles grabbed his front paws, pulling him out from under the bed.

Derek half allowed Stiles to drag him as he half-shuffled out on his own.

“There you are.” Stiles dusted leaves and dust from his fur. “I’m really sorry for hitting you. It was uncalled for.”

Derek kept his head down.

“Come on, Sourwolf. Forgive me.”

Derek butted his muzzle with Stiles’s cheek. A sigh of relief left Stiles.

~#~

Later that night when they were in bed, Stiles was half asleep when he commented on his wonder jump. He mumbled about him having super strength and horrible timing.

Derek didn’t fall asleep for hours that night, but he knew that he could sleep during the day when he had the house to himself. He tried something he’d tried only once before. Stiles hadn’t commented on it, so he wasn’t sure if it had worked. But Alan had told him there was a way to ease Stiles into knowing about him.

Derek kept a paw on Stiles’s hand, focusing on reaching him through the dreams. Stiles squeezed his paw in his sleep, but nothing else happened.

Alan told him they had to share a deep connection for such a thing to work. Derek was sure they had such a connection, but apparently it wasn’t strong enough.


	7. Chapter 7

 

On the days following the incident of Derek jumping through Stiles’s window, Derek noticed Stiles locking him out of his room, hiding what he was doing on his laptop, watching him intensely when he thought Derek wasn’t aware.

Derek figured Stiles had some theories about him. No sane human would hide his computer screen from an animal. Stiles knew that Derek could understand what was there. If he’d only known that Derek could read as well.

It all came to a crashing end a week after the incident. Derek had used his begging eyes to not be kicked out of his warm spot on the bed when Stiles brought his laptop with him.

Stiles kept it tilted away, but after typing something and frowning at the result, Stiles had to abandon his search when his phone rang from his desk. Mindlessly, he left his laptop on the bed, still open on the search engine.

Derek froze when he read the words Stiles had typed.

_wolf red eyes_

The search engine suggested a different thing, since it apparently couldn't find such a thing.

_Did you mean werewolf red eyes?_

Werewolves.

Derek’s mind swirled. He hadn’t expected Stiles to find out so soon.

“Something interesting on my laptop, Wolfie?”

His head turned to Stiles, who was standing at the foot of the bed, phone in hand.

Derek burrowed under the blanket, ignoring him.

Stiles clambered back next to him, leaning so close his mouth was at Derek's ear. “I’m onto you, Sourwolf.”

~#~

Stiles hoped this wasn’t a sign of him losing his mind.

He kept having weird dreams with his wolf as the leading character. He kept seeing Wolfie’s eyes flash red. He could pinpoint the times he noticed Wolfie paying too close attention to his laptop screen like he was reading over his shoulder, or the time he nearly bit his hand when Stiles changed the channel after getting bored with some silly movie. Wolfie could read and understand what he read. That was completely insane, but it was the truth.

His dreams were vivid. They had started the night he’d done the most horrible thing he’d done so far in his life. Stiles still couldn’t believe he’d slapped Wolfie.

When his anger had dissipated, Stiles felt terrible. Then Wolfie had scared the crap out of him with his stunt. Stiles had no clue how he had managed to jump through his window.

In his dreams, Wolfie was on the same large tree stump he’d been sitting on the first time Stiles had dreamed of this. But each night, something new happened, like the action of a movie unfolding.

Stiles could reach the tree stump. Wolfie jumped down and greeted him enthusiastically. They walked through the forest. They reached an abandoned house that looked ready to collapse. Wolfie took him to a room upstairs. There was a mirror in that room.

The mirror had appeared in his last dream, and Stiles couldn’t wait for night to come and find out what other insanity his brain would come up with.

Stiles kissed the top of Wolfie’s head after letting him know that he was onto him, despite how sneaky he thought he was.

When he focused on his laptop, his eyes widened.

Google was possessed. He’d searched wolves with red eyes and Google suggested werewolves with red eyes.

Stiles was glad he’d declined Scott’s invitation to train for lacrosse. His day turned better with that little discovery.

He clicked on what Google suggested. Of course, the result was faulty. There was no real explanation behind the eye-color, but the word werewolf opened a whole new can of worms.

As Stiles read about the traits of the wolf-man, he could associate most of them to Wolfie. The only issue was that Wolfie was not a man. He’d been with them for over five years. That was plenty of time to notice if his wolf turned into a human sometimes.

Wolfie was smart enough to pass as a werewolf, if there was somehow a real person trapped inside him.

Stiles frowned at his own thought. Trapped.

Wolfie had been just as sad as him when they had met. Maybe Wolfie had found refuge in his wolf to deal with the pain.

Stiles stared at Wolfie, curled up under his blanket, snoring softly. Stiles stroked his back slowly, thinking. His head started to hurt at the multitude of possibilities.

Wolfie could be just a wolf. A really smart wolf.

Wolfie could be a werewolf.

This branched out into two theories.

Either he sometimes turned into a human when no one was home, which Stiles found offensive. Or he was stuck in his wolf form for various reasons – he chose to, he couldn’t shift back, or he was afraid to do it.

His phone ringing made Stiles jump out of his skin. He’d been too focused on finding out the secret behind Wolfie’s sometimes red eyes.

“Hello?” He said into the phone, confused as to why his dad was calling when he should be home soon.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna pull a double. We still haven’t found the missing girl.”

“Did you guys check the woods?”

“We’re onto it now. Her dad hoped she’d wandered into town.”

“Want me to bring Wolfie? Maybe he’ll be able to help,” Stiles offered. “I mean, he saved me back then.”

“We have the K-9 unit for this, but thanks for the offer. Order some food and get some rest. You looked pretty tired this morning,” Dad said.

“Will do. I hope you find her soon.”

“Me too. Night, kiddo!”

Wolfie came around during his talk with his dad, and blinked sleepily at Stiles.

“What do you feel like eating?”

Wolfie shuffled closer, snuggling into his side, closing his eyes again.

“You’ve got to be kidding. How much sleep do you need?”

Wolfie draped a leg over Stiles’s lap, keeping him trapped.

Stiles opened a new tab on his browser and searched for the local burger joint’s address. He could have it delivered, but with his sixteenth birthday coming up in a couple of weeks, and the police searching for the little girl, he decided to take the Jeep out for a spin.

He got out of bed, clapping his hands.

Wolfie stuck his head under the blanket.

“None of that! We’re going on an adventure, Wolfie!”

With a lot of prodding and poking and pushing from him, Wolfie finally moved. Stiles grabbed the Jeep’s keys, nudging his wolf down the stairs.

He’d never taken him anywhere, except the vet visits.

Wolfie wasn’t impressed by Stiles’s idea. He went as far as to attempt to piss on the front right wheel of the Jeep. Stiles chased him away, scolding him loudly.

“Mine, not yours. Go to your tree and pee, then get your furry ass in the car.”

Stiles stood by the passenger side with the door open for five minutes. When Wolfie was finally safely inside, he rounded the hood and got behind the wheel. He’d passed the tests with flying colors, but he had to promise to the sheriff – his own father – that he wouldn’t drive the Jeep until his sixteenth birthday.

“It’s our little secret. You won’t tell Dad we did this.”

Wolfie nosed at the inside of the car, not interested in Stiles.

~#~

The ride to the burger joint was uneventful. The lady behind the drive-through window cooed at his beautiful dog, and they ended up with a free burger.

“Sweet! You’re my partner in crime from now on, Wolfie.”

The wolf wasn't impressed to be used for such treacherous actions.

Back home, Stiles tried parking the Jeep exactly like he’d found it, hoping his dad wouldn’t notice it had been moved.

They went inside, and while Stiles washed his hands, Wolfie knocked over a chair in his haste to take his free burger from the table.

“Whoa, buddy! Let me get the wrapper.” Stiles crouched to his side, unfolding the paper. The wolf had the whole burger in his mouth in one, huge bite. He chewed on it noisily, while Stiles sat at the table with his own burger and curly fries. He fed Wolfie some curly fries when he was done with his burger.

“You’re hilarious. Do you know that?” Stiles picked up a paper tissue and wiped Wolfie’s snout, which was full of ketchup. “You look like you maimed someone.”

Wolfie sneezed, shaking his head.

“Fine, stay messy. If Dad thinks you killed someone, you’re on your own.”

They puttered around until bedtime.

Stiles wrapped an arm around his wolf, closing his eyes. He was more tired than he’d originally thought.

His dream picked up right where it had left off.

Stiles found himself standing in the doorway of a room. The walls looked like the place had been burnt.

Wolfie wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but the mirror fogged when Stiles approached it. Then a weird symbol appeared on it. Three spirals interlocked. Stiles knew his history, and he knew the triskelion was the symbol of trinity.

As he squinted at the symbol, Stiles felt a chill running down his spine. He could distinguish the vague shape of a man in the mirror. The triskelion was drawn on his back.

~#~

Morning brought a mini panic attack when Stiles realized he’d overslept.

Wolfie watched him carefully as he rushed through his morning routine.

“I might be late. Practice,” Stiles told Wolfie. He’d learned his lesson about not telling his wolf about his whereabouts.

All through his classes, Stiles doodled the symbol on the corner of his notebooks.

“What’s that?” Scott asked, peering over his shoulder. They were having lunch outside since it was a warm day.

“It’s something I saw somewhere.”

“Huh. It used to be the symbol of a family who lived in the woods.”

“What?” Stiles pushed his lunch away, suddenly not hungry anymore. “A family lived in the woods?”

“In a big house there.” Scott nodded. “It was years ago. I was about seven or eight when a huge fire killed them all. It’s the worst accident to happen to his town.”

“Fire?” Stiles couldn’t breathe right.

“Yeah, buddy. It was horrible. The sheriff before your dad retired, because he couldn’t solve that case. They said it was an electrical problem, but everyone thinks something darker had happened there. But since no one survived…”

“No one?” Stiles insisted.

“There was the boy. I think he was a high school senior. But no one has heard of him since it happened.”

“Oh, God.”

“So where did you see the symbol, anyway?” Scott asked casually.

“What was their name? This family. The boy…”

“The Hales. Everyone liked them. They were nice people.” Scott scratched his head. “Their only son… Derek. I think Derek was his name. Rumor has it he went after them in the house. His whole family was in there.”

“What if he survived?” Stiles asked with trepidation.

“Then he’s totally fucked-up. Imagine living through such a thing.” Scott shuddered.

“Is this, like, in the archives or something?”

“It should be.”

Stiles restrained himself from running to the town’s library right then. He waited until school let out.

He was terrible at lacrosse. He could skip practice.

The lady behind the desk at the library stopped him from poking around until he had an access card. Once the bureaucracy part was over, Stiles went in search for details about the Hales.

He found a whole section named after one of them – Talia Hale.

There were old papers and clippings about the tragedy surrounding their family. Stiles sifted through the articles, gathering as much information as he could.

He went back to the library every day for the rest of the week, learning new things about the Hales. The boy, Derek Hale, had been captain of the basketball team. There was a picture of him, but the old age of the paper had faded his features.

On Friday, Stiles came upon a picture of their house.

He dropped the paper, stifling a shout of surprise and fright. It was the house from his dream. Just as burnt out and black.

 _Wolfie_.

What were the chances of Derek Hale being a werewolf?

More absurdly, what were the chances of Wolfie and Derek Hale being one and the same?

  



	8. Chapter 8

 

The Pink Moon, which was the full moon in April, fell on the Friday before Stiles’s birthday. Derek planned on spending the whole weekend with Stiles.

When he was sure Stiles was sleeping, he sneaked out of his room and out of the house.

He barely reached the edge of the woods when he heard the back door opening and closing. Derek froze, waiting for Stiles to call after him. He didn’t.

Figuring he’d return to his bed, Derek continued into the forest, on the familiar path leading to his old house. He visited the place several times each month, and more often than not, he did so during the night of the full moon. He felt close to his former pack, giving him a sense of stability and safety.

Derek went into his old room. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. The only thing familiar about him were his eyes.

When the stairs creaked loudly, Derek spun around, growling loudly. Then his nose picked up the scent. Stiles.

His heart was beating out of his chest. There were mixed feelings radiating off the teenager – excitement, fear, worry, anxiety.

“There you are!” Stiles stood in the doorway of his room, holding his phone in his hand. “You must wonder how I found you. I bugged your collar.”

Derek rolled his eyes. One day, Stiles would make a hell of a detective.

As they stared into each other’s eyes, Derek became aware that Stiles had some secrets.

He walked into the room slowly. His long fingers touched the mirror, a wistful smile on his face. He met Derek’s eyes through the mirror.

Stiles’s fingers drew a symbol on the mirror that made the hackles raise on his back. The triskele.

“Look familiar?”

Derek whined low in his throat. Stiles had been able to see the dreams.

The thought that Stiles had seen what Derek showed him during their sleep didn’t bring him as much joy as he’d initially thought. There was something that didn’t add up.

Stiles wasn’t freaking out.

On the contrary, he was watching Derek patronizingly and with a touch of pity in his eyes.

“Come on. Let’s head back home.”

Derek thought about being stubborn. He’d been planning on spending the night at his old house.

Stiles took him by the collar, nudging him to the stairs.

“This house doesn’t look safe.”

Derek side-eyed him, staying low to the ground as they made their way back through the forest.

“I’m sure it hurts to return there,” Stiles said after a while. “Next time you want to go, you can take me with you.”

Derek whined to let him know he was listening, but he wasn’t agreeing or disagreeing.

In front of their home, Stiles hovered in the middle of the dirt road. He looked up at the moon, then at Derek, who was patiently waiting for him at the back door.

~#~

Stiles opted to keep it to himself that he knew more. There was a chance that Wolfie wasn’t who he thought he was.

The trip to the old Hale house made Stiles feel as if he’d stepped into some horror movie. His vivid dreams had shown him exactly the same path he’d walked to get to the house. The wolf was in the room with the mirror.

Stiles decided to put his theories to bed for the weekend. He had plans with Scott to celebrate his birthday.

~#~

On Saturday, he spent the whole day out of the house. He took Scott to the burger joint, then they caught some new action movie at the cinema, and ended the day by hanging out at the viewpoint with some Jack and Coke. Stiles hoped his dad wouldn’t notice the alcohol missing from the wet bar.

It was near midnight and they were both intoxicated, talking random shit, when they heard movement from nearby.

Scott panicked so badly that Stiles had to locate his friend’s inhaler and help him take a few puffs of medicine. His asthma hit at the worst times.

Stiles looked over his shoulder in time to see Wolfie. If he wasn’t used to him, he would have been worried by the judging look in his eyes.

“Oh, please! Like you weren’t my age once,” Stiles scoffed. He tipped the bottle to Wolfie, then took a swig.

Wolfie watched him warily, and Stiles registered what he’d said.

“You have to stop sneaking up on us,” Scott complained, stuffing his inhaler back in his jacket.

“It’s his special trait – to scare me.” Stiles crawled to where Wolfie stood frozen in place. He petted him sloppily. “You’re a good wolf. My perfect wolf.”

“Dude, I think you’re drunk,” Scott shouted, laughing.

“I might be.” Stiles shrugged. “I have an idea! Wanna drink?” He retrieved the bottle, holding it in front of his wolf.

“It could kill him!”

Wolfie sniffed it, then huffed loudly.

Stiles poured some liquid into the cap of the bottle, holding it toward Wolfie. Slowly, carefully, he lapped at it. His tongue lolled out and he almost smiled.

“Good? More?”

“You’re getting your wolf drunk, Stiles!”

“Shut up. It’s my birthday! We’re all going to have fun!”

They kept drinking until the bottle was empty. It had been half full to begin with, but Stiles was pretty sure they were way too gone. He kept laughing randomly. Wolfie rolled around in the mud, snuffing and sneezing. Scott was laughing hysterically at his wolf’s antics.

When they decided to head to their respective homes, Scott was faring a lot better than Stiles and Wolfie. The poor wolf stumbled over his feet, staring confused at his raised paw.

“Be quiet,” Stiles said loudly when they arrived home. “We shouldn’t wake Dad!” He slurred out. “And you need a bath!”

Wolfie growled.

“Bathroom!”

The decision to wash the wolf while drunk was horrible, but Stiles thought it was the wisest choice at the moment.

Wolfie jumped in the tub, and Stiles turned the water on, making the wolf howl at how cold it was. Realizing his mistake, Stiles adjusted the temperature, then used the detachable shower head on Wolfie. He got too much water on his clothes and the floor.

In his inebriated state, Stiles stripped down to his boxers and joined Wolfie in the tub. He couldn’t remember what else happened after that.

~#~

“Mieczyslaw Stilinski!”

Stiles hadn’t heard his real name from his dad’s lips since he was five, and he’d broken one of his vinyl discs.

He shot up, nearly braining himself.

“Why am I in the bathtub?” He asked, confused.

That was the least of his problems when a pounding headache hit him like a sledgehammer smack in the head.

“You tell me why you’re in the bathtub. And you explain to me why my bottle of whiskey is empty on the kitchen table. Also, your dog threw up in your bed.”

Stiles felt himself about to barf.

“Is this going to be a problem, son? You stealing alcoholic drinks from home, and using them to get drunk with your friend? Because I know Scott was with you. Melissa called me to ask what you two had been up to yesterday.”

Stiles moaned, curling into the bathtub. “Let me die in peace.”

“I have to go to work. You better man up and nurse your hangover. I think you should take the dog to the vet if he somehow managed to drink, too.”

Stiles had a flash of pouring whiskey down Wolfie’s throat. He covered his eyes. He deserved to go to hell. No matter if Wolfie was indeed Derek Hale or a real wolf, Stiles had no right to force him to drink.

“Oh, and your present is downstairs. I’m not so sure you deserve it after such atrocious behavior, though.” Then his dad was gone.

Stiles hoisted himself out of the tub, sat on the edge of it until his stomach settled, and then he went into his room. The smell of Wolfie’s vomit made his stomach turn. He made it back to the bathroom right on time.

When he felt a little more human and with three painkillers on board, Stiles braved the acrid smell in his room.

“You really need a shower.”

Wolfie didn’t put up a fight, probably agreeing that he smelled horrible. Stiles scrubbed him violently, tears welling up in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry I made you drink.”

The wolf nosed at his neck, showing him it was okay and that he was forgiven.

When the shower was over, Stiles had enough time to cover his face with the towel before Wolfie shook off the water. Then Stiles took a shower himself.

They went downstairs after Stiles had loaded the washing machine with his bed sheet and blanket.

Wolfie stared at the rectangular present on the table, wagging his tail.

Stiles picked it up carefully, feeling horrible for not being at home on his birthday and for upsetting his dad.

Stiles found a stack of the newest video games. He’d been whining for months that he wanted them.

He was a bad son. He didn’t deserve the nice present.

~#~

After eating a little, Stiles called his dad and apologized for his behavior, then thanked him for the thoughtful present. He promised his dad he’d make dinner as an apology.

He probably still had alcohol in his head, or otherwise he wouldn’t have said something that could break or make his wolf.

Wolfie was pawing at the back door, wanting outside. Stiles opened the door, and hung on it, looking after his black, furry friend.

“Hey, Derek!” He called before he could stop the words from escaping his mouth.

To his amazement, the wolf stopped and turned to look at him expectantly. Then his blue-green eyes widened comically.

“Oh, fuck.” Stiles cringed when the wolf bolted into the forest.

He could be going back to the Hale house, or to that large tree stump, or some other hiding spot. Stiles had fucked up royally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the continuous support! =)


	9. Chapter 9

 

Derek.

Stiles had called him _Derek_.

He ran as fast as his legs carried him. Derek had no idea why he was running, but he had to put distance between himself and Stiles.

The boy was never supposed to make such an important discovery, though Derek should have known it would come down to this after the dreams he’d shown Stiles. He was a bright young man, and he should have known it was just a matter of time until he put the pieces together. But it had happened a lot sooner than Derek expected.

There was no doubt that Stiles knew his wolf pet was Derek Hale.

What the boy chose to do with the information was a gamble. Derek didn’t plan on being around to discover what Stiles decided.

More than likely, he was going to tell his dad. Noah was the sheriff. He had access to the archives, and they’d most likely reopen the case. That would generate even more unanswered questions.

If Stiles somehow believed that Derek was a werewolf, then the whole thing would be blown out of proportion.

His mother had drilled into Derek from a young age to never expose their natures to humans. It was the first rule.

He’d already broken the rule by falling for the wrong person and ultimately playing an important role in the fire at his house.

Now, a faux sense of safety and stability had made him foolishly trust Stiles. He trusted him so much that he showed him dreams which could lead to hints about who he was. Stiles had pieced everything together so fast that it scared Derek.

~#~

Nightfall found Derek in an abandoned coyote den. The scent hurt his nose, but there was no other option.

He couldn’t go back to his house.

The thought of not finding safety in his old house made Derek howl in pain.

He circled around the back of the cave before settling into a curled-up position, resting his head on his front paws.

He could end the agony by shifting back, but the desire to return to humanity was smaller than ever. There was literally no reason for him turn back into a human.

Derek thought of the moment he’d met Stiles. He remembered his insane desire to be around the unknown boy, then the boy had come looking for him, instead of running the other way, and they had become friends.

Derek had been there for Stiles through all his troubled transition from boyhood to teenagehood; he’d seen him happy, sad, depressed, embarrassed, and for a few horrible days, he’d guided the boy through panic attacks.

Derek couldn’t imagine Stiles doing anything heartless with the information he had about him. Stiles was the gentlest and most loving person Derek had ever met.

Derek sighed heavily. When he thought of the boy, a myriad of memories attacked him:

Stiles clinging to him when he had nightmares.

Stiles telling him his deepest, darkest secrets in the middle of the night.

Stiles cuddling with him every morning.

Stiles smiling brightly when he saw Derek waiting for him at the bus stop.

Stiles apologizing profusely before giving him a bath. Stiles scolding him for being ungrateful that he was clean when Derek shook off the water from his fur.

Stiles sneaking him food under the table, smiling innocently at his dad’s accusatory looks.

Stiles patiently pulling spines from his paws and legs after Derek had managed to step over some sort of cactus.

Stiles, who grew up and spent more time with his friend Scott.

Stiles, who locked Derek out of his room to touch himself. Some mornings, Derek used to wake up to the smell of arousal and Stiles rubbing himself under the blanket. Derek allowed him some privacy as much as possible with him in bed.

The worst part was that Stiles had no idea how he affected Derek.

The first time Derek noticed how much Stiles had grown up, he slid off the edge of the bed, falling face first on the floor. It had made Stiles laugh hysterically. But Derek was busy staring at Stiles’s naked body.

Stiles had never been one to worry about getting undressed in front of his pet wolf.

To Derek’s astonishment, he felt desire toward the boy. He tried rationalizing the feeling. He couldn’t like Stiles that way. Stiles was a boy, and Derek wasn’t gay. Stiles definitely wasn’t gay, because he kept talking about some girl with Scott. The boy was obsessed with her.

And Derek was a horny young man stuck in a wolf’s body.

There were times when Derek yearned to hold Stiles in his arms, feel his naked skin against his own naked skin, kiss him, make him his in every way possible.

Now it was all gone.

~#~

Noah returned home after a long and tiring shift to find his son curled up on the couch with his wolf blanket. He hadn’t seen that thing in years.

What alarmed him were the heart-wrenching sobs coming from his son.

“Stiles?” He approached his son, touching his shoulder.

“Dad.” Stiles burrowed into his side. “I’ve done something horrible.”

“Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help.” Noah sat next to him, wrapping both arms around his son, rocking them back and forth, like when he’d been a little boy.

“I’m a bad person.”

“Is this about yesterday? I’ve thought about it and decided to forgive you. I’ve been your age once. I can clearly remember the rebellious stage.”

“Wolfie left us.”

Noah pulled away to stare in confusion at Stiles. “You know he likes to go back into the forest. He’ll be back.”

“No, Dad. I betrayed his trust. I went digging, and…”

“He’s just a dog, Stiles. He’ll get over it.”

Stiles shook his head, tears splashing onto his lap. Noah stroked his head, reassuring him that the dog would return. And if it didn’t, he’d ask Dr. Deaton to track his chip. And worst case scenario, if the dog chose to never return, it was his loss.

Noah had grown to like him, but Stiles loved him with all his heart.

~#~

Stiles spent his spring holiday searching for Derek. The first few days, he waited around the house, hoping he’d return on his own. Then he ambled through the forest in search of the Hale house. He got lost on all his attempts.

Stiles regretted taking the GPS chip from Derek’s collar after tracking him down to his old house. He could see how betrayed he’d been.

 

It was a week later, after school let out early on Tuesday, that Stiles tried to find the house again. He was successful. But there was no Derek.

He took his time to walk around the house, shivering at the thoughts of the tragedy that had killed Derek’s whole family.

He still couldn’t understand the depth of the meaning behind the word _werewolf_.

Derek had a lot of explaining to do when Stiles found him.

It all made sense. Wolves were smart animals, but not that smart. He’d always been a lot more perceptive than Stiles could hope. Derek could understand him better than he thought.

Thinking back on all the years spent with Derek in his house, in his room, in his freaking bed, Stiles suddenly felt violated. Maybe they were both just as guilty for not coming clean sooner, he mused, as he picked his way back home.

~#~

Over the course of the following days, Stiles started combing the woods for evidence that Derek was still around. He thought he heard him howling sometimes.

“Dude, I don’t understand. Just let it be. He ran away,” Scott said, agitated.

Stiles stuffed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt into his school bag, along with some food and water. “Look, I don’t expect you to understand. I can’t explain why I have to do this, but trust me. I’ll forever regret it if I don’t try harder.”

“But there’s a storm brewing. Mom’s been called at the hospital, because there are always accidents during such times.”

“I’m not taking the car, Scott. I’m going into the woods.”

“That’s what’s scaring me, buddy.”

Stiles shrugged into his red hoodie, zipping it up. Then he slung the backpack over his shoulder. “If Dad asks you whether or not you’ve seen me or heard me saying anything...Tell him I’ve gone after Wolfie.”

“Bro…” Scott cringed when a loud thunder rattled the windows.

“I’ve got it, Scotty.” Stiles patted his friend’s chest. “Go home and don’t worry about me.” He checked the flashlight to make sure it worked, then led his friend downstairs. “I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.” Scott hovered on the porch, while Stiles locked up. “Maybe you could take me with you.”

“Dude, I appreciate it, but no. It’s my problem.”

Stiles walked into the forest, having a flashback of a time long past. He’d been ten back then, and he’d braved the woods to search for a sad wolf. Now he was braving the woods to find the wolf, who he knew was actually a man.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kind words! :)

 

“Shit.”

Stiles held the lantern between his teeth as he fought to keep the hood over his head. The wind was so strong, it kept blowing it back. His fingers were cold and the rain felt like sharp particles of ice hitting his skin.

“Derek!” He yelled, squinting around. He had no idea where to start looking. He’d done this a lot in the past few days, but he’d never been so desperate as to call his name.

“Dude, we have to talk! You can’t hide in here forever!” Stiles screamed when a lighting struck a tree in front of him, making it fall, blocking his path.

Suddenly, he had a strong sense of déja-vu. He’d been ten and terrified of being lost. Now he was sixteen and terrified of dying in a forest, while trying to make amends with a stubborn werewolf.

He climbed over the fallen tree, making his way deeper into the woods. He was so cold he couldn’t feel his feet, and his whole body was shaking.

_What are the chances I die of hypothermia?_

_Stupid Derek._

_Stupid weather._

_Stupid me._

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

There was a loud click and Stiles froze. He looked around, alarmed. Then he looked down when he realized he’d stepped on something.

“Oh, my GOD!” He wailed.

It was a coyote trap. If he made the slightest move, it would cripple him.

“HELP! Anyone!” Stiles fisted his hands at his sides, knowing how stupid he was.

There was no one going to help him. At some point, he was going to move his foot. The trap would cut his leg, then he’d die slowly and painfully.

He wondered what was a worse way to go – loss of blood or hypothermia?

His foot slipped half an inch over the mechanism due to the rain, and the fact that Stiles couldn’t feel his frozen foot. Before he realized what had happened, the trap clamped over his ankle and he screamed in pain.

While he lay on the wet forest ground, sobbing and trying to make his phone work to call for help, he saw a sight that filled him with warmth. Derek was approaching from his right. His eyes were burning red.

Stiles chucked his useless phone away, reaching a shaky hand toward him.

“Hey, buddy.”

Derek went straight to his injured leg, nosing around it.

“I know. I’m hurt.”

Derek shot him an exasperated look, circling the trap.

“What are you doing?” Stiles frowned when Derek nudged his leg, then moved a paw under the trap. “You want to disarm it? Really?” Derek grabbed a mouthful of Stiles’s pant leg, then faster than Stiles thought possible, the trap opened and Derek pulled him away.

The pain intensified, but his brain kicked in. He ripped through his backpack and found his spare t-shirt.

“Help me tear this.” He held it to Derek’s mouth.

When his shirt was in shreds, Stiles tied it above his injury, cringing at the pain radiating from his ankle. Then he pulled the hem of his pant leg up and felt sick at the sight. He became woozy.

Derek tried nudging him to stand up, but Stiles knew he wouldn’t be able to do it. He was close to fainting. His body was going into shock, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The last thought that crossed his mind before everything went black was that he at least had Derek with him in his last moments.

~#~

Foolish boy.

Derek wasn’t sure if he wanted to kick Stiles’s ass for this insane move he’d pulled, or kiss him.

When he’d first heard Stiles’s voice calling for help, he thought it was his imagination. Then he went to inspect it.

Sure enough, the boy was in the woods, looking for him. And he’d found trouble.

His leg was in a coyote trap.

Derek was proud of himself for being able to pull Stiles free while still staying in his wolf form.

The moment he’d seen Stiles injured, something snapped in him. Derek was ready to return.

When Stiles fainted after wrapping his t-shirt above his injury, Derek considered running into town for help, but it could be hours before they reached Stiles. He could tell Stiles wasn’t faring well. Staring at Stiles, Derek focused on his human side, letting it slowly come back. He lay next to Stiles on the wet ground for a good five minutes after the transformation.

His limbs were working perfectly fine, like he hadn’t been a wolf for almost ten years.

Derek knew that werewolves aged differently, but he was sure he looked to be in his early twenties. Maybe being a wolf had slowed his aging even more.

He pulled out the pair of sweatpants he’d spied in Stiles’s backpack. It didn’t matter they were wet, too tight, and clung to his skin. He picked Stiles up in his arms, shivering at how cold the boy was.

“Don’t you dare die,” he hissed, hugging him to his chest.

Derek started running. He was faster than any human, which brought him to the hospital in less than fifteen minutes. He burst through the doors, momentarily blinded by the fluorescent light.

A brunette nurse rushed to his side, firing panicked instructions to the other nurse behind the front desk. She told Derek to bring Stiles into a room.

Once Stiles was being take care of, the questions would come. The woman kept shooting him looks when she started tending to Stiles’s ankle before the doctor arrived.

Derek refused to leave the room.

“Sir, we’d appreciate it if you stayed in the waiting area,” she told him after a while. “Tell Becky to give you a change of clothes.”

Derek did as he was told. He assumed the girl behind the desk was Becky. She offered him a pair of green scrubs, a white t-shirt, and a pair of slippers. He saw the doctor and the nurse taking Stiles to the x-rays.

~#~

Hours could have passed, but Derek sat on the chair, staring at his hands. He’d never imagined he’d return to his human form in the wake of such a horrible event. In his mind, he always thought he’d shift back when he was alone with Stiles in his room.

When Noah arrived, Derek sprung to his feet.

While Noah screamed at Becky, demanding answers to what happened to his son, Derek approached him.

“He’s getting treated. I think his ankle was shattered.”

Noah spun around, frowning at him.

It took Derek a moment to realize the man had no idea who he was. “And who the hell are you?”

Derek thought about lying, then he figured the truth would come out one way or the other. “Derek Hale, Sir.”

Noah’s eyes widened. “Hale! You’re Talia’s son? I thought… I read the reports…”

Derek wasn’t surprised that Noah knew about his family. He was the sheriff, after all.

“I left town shortly after it happened. Now I decided to return, and I found this boy hurt in the forest. I assume he’s your son, sheriff?”

Noah nodded in gratitude. “Thank you so much.” He turned to the side when the brunette nurse joined them.

As they talked, Derek realized who she was. She’d smelled faintly familiar, and that was because she was Scott’s mother.

She told Noah how lucky Stiles was to be found on time. His ankle was bandaged up, since a cast was out of question until the skin healed, and he was currently on fluids and under an electric blanket.

She led Noah to his son’s room. Derek slumped back in his seat, keeping an ear on what they were talking.

They were discussing him.

Melissa was surprised she hadn’t recognized him.

Noah was intrigued at how young he looked despite the beard.

That thought made Derek find the nearest bathroom. He gasped in shock at seeing himself.

The last time he’d seen his reflection was shortly before the tragedy. He’d been a seventeen-year-old – tall, fit, smooth cheeks, and innocent eyes. Now, he was staring into the eyes of a troubled man.

His dark hair was unruly, dried hectically. There was a few days’ worth of beard on his jaw, and Derek had no idea how that worked. The longer he stared at himself, the more he looked like a trapped, wild animal.

He pulled out of his confused thoughts when he heard Stiles’s voice yelling that he wanted to see him.

Derek moved faster than a regular human, bursting into Stiles’s room. He realized his mistake when Noah and Melissa gave him confused looks.

“Huh. Here he is.” Noah made light of his sudden appearance.

Stiles’s wet eyes met his, roaming over his human body. “Derek!” He gasped, reaching out his hands.

Slowly, aware of the other people in the room, Derek walked to Stiles’s side. He sat next to him, taking the boy’s hands and squeezing them.

“You’re real,” Stiles whispered. “Oh, God.” He sniffed, leaning closer and throwing his arms around Derek’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

Derek patted Stiles’s back awkwardly, shooting worried looks at Noah. He saw Melissa pulling the sheriff out of the room to allow them some privacy.

“Say something. Please. I’m the worst person alive!” Stiles pressed his nose into Derek’s neck. “I bet you didn’t want to come back. I forced you, just like I forced you to do a lot of other stupid things over the years.”

“Stiles,” Derek whispered, stroking his hair. The boy stiffened at hearing his name, then became lax in his arms. “We might be at a moot point. I’m sorry for having been a burden all these years.”

“What? No, dude!” Stiles pulled away a little to look at him. “Your eyes… They’re the same.”

Derek smirked. “I must say it’s nice to see you in technicolor. You look much better than in black and white.”

Stiles choked on his spit, then he started laughing. “This is so weird.”

“Tell me about it,” Derek mumbled.

Stiles stroked Derek’s cheek. “You’re coming home with us, right? I bet you don’t have anywhere to go.”

“That’s up to your dad, Stiles. I’m no longer a cute wolf. I’m a man, and I bet your dad will be reluctant to allow me in his house.”

“Pshh! Leave it to me.” Stiles relaxed back on the pillows, cringing slightly. “I hope this is the last time we find ourselves in trouble during a storm in the woods.”

Derek chuckled. “You’re the one getting in trouble. I only go the extra mile to save your ass.”

“I’m grateful we met that day, Derek. I don’t know how much you remember, but you’ve been my best friend.”

“I remember everything.”

His confession made Stiles’s whiskey-colored eyes meet his, then a big smile spread on his lips.


	11. Chapter 11

Derek was human.

A tiny part of Stiles was mourning the fact that he wouldn’t have his furry friend around anymore, but there would be a new friend replacing him. He hoped that Derek was going to accept his invitation and stay with them.

Stiles shifted on the uncomfortable hospital bed. All he wanted was for the doctor to give him wonderful news about the time he’d be released.

Summer was fast approaching, and there was no way he’d end the school year in classes. Scott had told him that his good grades absolved him of the tests they took at the end of the year.

Stiles smiled, remembering Scott’s shocked face when he had heard about Derek Hale being back. He foolishly kept joking that Stiles had gone into the woods after a wolf, and had returned with a man. It took a lot from Stiles not to point out that Derek and the wolf were the same person. He and Derek had to talk about that subject.

“Great news, kiddo! You’re coming home today!” His dad said, coming into the room.

“Yes!” Stiles pumped his fist in the air.

“We’ll be back when the wound has healed to make sure your ankle has mended properly. Your doctor is still skeptical about not placing it in a cast.”

“Yeah, well… Maybe you should do something about those coyote traps. _You’re_ the sheriff.”

“Oh, believe me, Stiles. I was on a case several years ago when a hiker narrowly avoided stepping on one. Now it’s actually happened to my own son. You bet your ass I’m going to raise hell.”

Stiles stifled a smile. “Thanks, Dad.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, testing if he could put pressure on his left foot. A shot of pain ran up his leg, paralyzing him. “So, quick question,” he said through his teeth. He wasn’t ready to admit to his dad that he wasn’t well enough to leave the hospital.

“Sure. Shoot.” His dad brought over a change of clothes.

“I know it’s going to be a problem, but please consider it,” Stiles began.

“Go on.” Dad helped him with his jeans.

“So the thing is Derek has been living off the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area. He has nowhere to go.”

Dad’s eyes shot up, narrowing. “No way, Stiles! I accepted your crazy idea to bring that stray dog in, but this is a real person!”

“He has nowhere to go, Dad!”

“Look how well the dog thing went! He left!”

“Dad. Like you said, Derek is a person.” His dad opened his mouth to retort, but Stiles beat him to it. “Listen, his house was burned by an accident or by someone intentionally. The fact is, that fire killed everyone he had in this world. He left, trying to make a new life for himself. Now he’s back. How cruel can you be?”

“Oh, no! Don’t guilt-trip me into bringing an unknown man into our house!”

“Well, he’s unknown to you, because you don’t talk to him. I’ve grown to know him over the past week while I’ve been stuck in here. Derek is really nice, funny, and the worst part is that he has no one!” Stiles shouted, losing his cool.

He’d planned on having a calm conversation with his dad, but it seemed his dad wasn’t too keen to listen to his arguments. Stiles hadn’t taken into consideration his dad saying no to Derek living with them.

“If I say yes to him staying with us temporarily until he finds his footing and gets a job and his own place, will you stop making a scene?”

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” Stiles beamed. “Good doing business with you, Daddy-O!”

Dad left to work on his discharging papers, leaving Stiles to finish getting dressed on his own.

He was done tying the shoelaces of his right running shoe, and was frowning at the left one.

_How in the hell am I going to stick my foot in there without dying of pain?_

The door opened, and Stiles looked up to see a dejected Derek.

“Hey, buddy! Guess what?”

“You shouldn’t have fought with your dad about me.”

Stiles choked on his spit. “What? I mean… how? Wait. Were you eavesdropping at the door?”

Derek’s lips curled up. “Not quite.”

“You’re coming home with us, and after I pump myself full of painkillers, you’re going to tell me a bedtime story.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Dude, I remember your face when I researched werewolves,” Stiles whispered, keeping his eyes on Derek’s.

~#~

His dad returned, letting him know he was ready to take him home. When Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, Dad turned to Derek, suggesting he could come live with them until he figured out his life.

At the car, Dad wanted to stick Derek in the back of the cruiser. Stiles could clearly remember how uncomfortable he’d been every time he had to stay behind the partition.

“I take the backseat!” Stiles announced to them. He was leaning most of his weight on Derek as he helped him hop on his good foot, since Stiles refused to be carried. “Leverage for my foot,” he explained when his dad eyed him dubiously.

If possible, Derek seemed even more self-conscious sitting shotgun. Stiles sat directly behind him.

During the ride home, Stiles reached out and squeezed Derek’s shoulder. He saw him relaxing, and smiled.

He knew that he should be weirded out. His wolf was a man. Derek was a werewolf. That was something he’d thought to be fiction until recently.

When they arrived home, Stiles instructed Derek to help him to the couch. He lay on the piece of furniture, sighing with relief. He was finally home.

“I’ll bring you something to eat, so you can take the pills,” his dad said after locking up.

“Sure. Thanks!”

Derek was hovering by the couch, eyes darting around.

“Sit down.” Stiles moved his feet off the couch, cringing in pain. “I’m sure this is overwhelming, but you’re doing great.”

Derek sat at Stiles’s feet, staring at his fingers on his lap. “It feels so surreal. I’ve been in this place, but not quite.”

“It’s going to be okay.”

~#~

Noah plated the lasagna Melissa had forced on him the other day. It felt odd to part the food on three plates. Not even when they had Wolfie had it been so odd, but that was because Wolfie was a dog. Now the third plate was going to another person.

He couldn’t believe Stiles had managed to convince him to go along with this insanity.

Since Derek’s return, Noah had asked left and right about the only survivor from the Hale fire. People had only kind words about him.

But there was a gap of nine years. No one had known about Derek Hale’s whereabouts in all that time.

Noah had used police resources to find out, but he had come up empty. He’d been a ghost.

And something didn’t add up. The police reports from the fire said Derek was seventeen back then. The man didn’t look a day over twenty-three now.

Noah brought the food into the living room, taking his favorite stuffed chair. He had a good vantage point to the couch where his son and Derek were talking quietly.

Of all things, they were discussing the slow healing process of Stiles’s ankle. Derek had a hand on his son’s leg. He wasn’t stroking it, simply resting his hand there in the most casual way.

A chilling thought ran down Noah’s back.

They looked too comfortable. They couldn’t have met a mere week ago.

“So, Derek…” It was time for answers.

“So, Dad… Do you know how rude it is to interrupt a conversation?” Stiles bit back.

“It’s okay, Stiles.” Derek reassured him with a tense smile. “Yes, Sir?” He focused on Noah.

“If my son would allow me to steal your attention for a while…” Noah lifted a brow in challenge.

Stiles mumbled under his breath, but gestured for him to keep talking.

“I don’t want to come off as rude or insensitive, but I’m curious what you did when you left town?”

“DAD!” Stiles yelled. “Oh, God. You don’t have to talk about it, Derek.”

Derek patted Stiles’s calf. “I’ve been hiding. That’s what I’ve been doing. We had a cabin in North Carolina and I spent most of my time there.”

“Did you have a job there?”

“No, Sir. But I plan on finding a job and getting my own place. Believe me, the last thing I want is to crowd you.”

“How did you manage without a job?”

“I helped the people in town with various daily tasks.” Derek divulged, shrugging casually.

“Can you stop with the twenty-one questions? You’re making him uncomfortable, Dad.”

“When did you meet my son?”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up. He glanced at Stiles, then focused on him. “In the woods, Sir.”

Stiles smiled through his bite of lasagna.

Noah felt like he was missing out on an inside joke.

“Until we sort out everything for you, I hope this couch is not too shabby to host you. We had a dog for a while, and he loved to claw at it.”

Derek’s ears burnt red. “It’s okay, Sir.”

Stiles choked on his food, hitting his chest with his fist to breathe correctly again. “Sorry.”

“I’m going to bring you some of my clothes. I bet you’re sick of wearing those hospital clothes. You can also shower. Towels are in the cabinet under the sink.”

“I know.” Derek nodded. “I’m ready to throw these clothes away.”

“We can go shopping tomorrow,” Stiles suggested.

“I’m sure Derek can go shopping on his own. If you don’t listen to the doctor and keep your foot elevated, I’m taking you back to the hospital!”

“That’s cruel, Dad.” Stiles pouted. “Sorry, big guy. You’re on your own.”

Derek rolled his eyes, picking at his food.

There were still too many questions about how Derek had lived, why he didn’t travel with clothes, and where his other possessions were.

“Uh, Sir?” Derek called after him, when Noah was ready to go bring him clothes. “Would it be too much trouble to make a new ID card? I lost mine after the cabin in North Carolina was robbed.”

“Of course. You can come by the station tomorrow.”

~#~

It took Derek hours to find a comfortable position on the couch that night. When he was finally ready to get some much needed sleep, he heard the stairs creak.

The sheriff was climbing down for a glass of water, most likely.

There was a moment of silence in the creaking, then a muffled yelp and a thud.

Derek was on his feet and at the foot of the stairs in an instant. He crouched to help Stiles up.

“Give me a moment. My ego was bruised worse than my ankle.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Derek hissed.

“I’m thirsty! Ow.” He clutched at Derek’s arm, wincing. “My foot slipped.”

Derek knew how accident prone Stiles was. He’d been around since the boy was ten. But he’d never been so careless.

“Dude! Your eyes.” Stiles stared at him, fascinated.

Derek shook his head, blinking. He knew the conversation about werewolves was long overdue, but he was trying to prolong the inevitable.

He helped Stiles to the couch, then went to bring him a glass of water. “I might not always be around to save you from yourself,” he muttered.

“You know I always keep a bottle of water in my room. I just forgot to bring one when I went to bed.”

“Want me to help you back?” Derek offered.

Stiles drank from his glass, keeping eye-contact with Derek over the rim.

“Stiles? Come on. Let me help.”

“You can be so pushy. Your wolf was so much easier to deal with,” Stiles mumbled. He leaned back on the couch, yawning. “I don’t want to sleep alone. I’ve grown so used to having you there.”

“Uh, I’m sure you understand that’s not possible.”

“Can’t you turn back into a wolf?”

Derek laughed loudly, but stopped short, realizing he could wake the sheriff. “What? You want me to be your wolf pillow at night, and then your human friend during the day?”

Stiles beamed, then he winked. The small gesture melted Derek’s insides. The boy had no idea what he was doing to him. “Well, dream on.”

“You suck,” Stiles said under his breath.

The walk to Stiles’s room was short, but Derek could tell that it took a lot of effort from Stiles to not cringe or whimper in pain.

Once he was in bed, Derek sat on the edge, placing a hand over the white wrap around Stiles’s left ankle. He drew the pain away. He could feel Stiles’s body sagging in relief.

“You’re the best, dude!” He slurred, then he was out like a light.

Derek shifted up the bed, stroking a hand through Stiles’s hair and impulsively, he pressed his lips to the top of his head. Stiles smelled like young boy, a faint trace of Derek’s own scent, and a lot like the hospital. Derek wished he could make Stiles smell like him all the time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for the constant support!

 

Stiles woke up disoriented. It took him a few moments to remember he was back home. Derek lived with them now, if only temporarily.

His clock read nine, which was much later than he was used to waking up during the week. The painkillers had knocked him out good.

He went into the bathroom, keeping his balance with a hand on the wall, as he hopped on his good foot down the hallway.

He was almost done pissing when he became aware he wasn’t alone in the bathroom. The shower had been on, and now it stopped. The silence made his heart explode in a marathon.

_Fuck. Shit. Crap._

Stiles quickly stuffed his dick back in his pajama pants as the shower curtain moved.

His mouth watered at the sight in front of him.

Before he could register that he was attracted to the naked man in front of him, and maybe allow his eyes to travel below the happy trail, Derek put a towel around his hips.

They stared at each other for a long minute.

Stiles couldn’t find an explanation as to why he was there. “I’m so sorry! I guess I’m still sleepy.”

Derek stepped out of the tub, watching him carefully. “I’ve hogged the bathroom for too long, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t know. I just woke up. Right. I’ll let you…” Stiles moved his hands around, not trusting his voice anymore. “I’ll be downstairs.”

“Maybe you should wait in your room. You could break your neck on the stairs.”

Stiles could feel his cheeks burning. “So... last night wasn’t a nightmare.”

“Nope.” Derek smiled, and Stiles forgot how to breathe.

 _Get a hold of yourself!_ He chided himself on his way back to his room.

He fell face first on his bed, wincing when he trapped his semi hard dick under his body.

Stiles couldn’t understand why he found Derek so desirable, but he wanted to climb him a like a tree, ride him like a rodeo bull, and lick him like a Popsicle.

“God,” he mumbled into his pillow.

“Are you in pain?” Derek’s voice made him roll around, getting tangled in the blanket before he unceremoniously landed on the floor. “Seriously?” Derek laughed, coming to his rescue.

“Can we forget this happened? I mean, let’s scratch off the last ten minutes of our lives.”

“You’ve always been entertaining to be around.”

“Thanks?”

“Come on.” Derek helped him up. “Your dad instructed me to protect you from yourself. I’ve been doing that for years.”

“My hero.” Stiles threw himself into Derek’s arms, realizing too late that Derek’s chest was bare and still damp from his shower. He wrenched away before Derek could feel his boner. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“It depends on what you want to do.”

“I want to stay in bed all day. I haven’t slept well lately,” Stiles admitted. “And I want to talk. About everything. From the fact that you’re a freaking werewolf to the fact that you’ve lived with us as a wolf for years, and how you simply turned your back on our friendship and left after I made a huge-ass mistake. We’re no better, Derek. We both made mistakes. But I manned up and came in search of you, wanting to make peace.”

“We need to talk. I agree.”

“Can you make some coffee, please? I’ll wait in here.” Stiles patted his bed.

While Derek prepared their coffees, Stiles changed out of his pajamas and got comfortable on the bed with his leg propped up on his folded blanket.

Derek returned with two steaming mugs of coffee. He handed Stiles one, then took a seat on the chair by the desk.

Stiles blew into his mug, trying to figure out a good way to start the conversation.

“You can ask me anything. I owe you honest answers,” Derek broke the awkward silence.

“The dreams. Why did you show me those dreams?”

“How do you know I showed you dreams?” Derek lifted a thick brow.

“Dude. Honest answers – you said that a second ago. Besides, every morning after such a dream, I woke up with your paw in my hand.”

Derek sighed loudly. “Yes. I wanted you to figure out something about me. I had no idea you’d piece everything together so fast.”

“That symbol was a huge deal. The triskele.”

“I thought you’d poke your nose in the case about what happened to my family.”

“Scott told me about the Hales’ only son and how he might have survived the fire. I dug around a little. It wasn’t that difficult to put all the puzzle pieces together.”

“You’re really smart. You always treated me as more than an animal.”

“In my defense, in the beginning I was certain you were a wolf. But over time… something changed. I can’t say what or when, but I knew there was more to my Wolfie than it seemed. Your eyes gave you away, Derek. The wisdom and depth, the way you paid attention to things a normal animal wouldn’t spare a second look, the way you read over my shoulder when I was on my computer, the way you watched movies. Dude, I was onto you since I turned twelve, if not earlier. It just took me a while to have all the pieces of the puzzle to see the bigger picture.”

“I’m still amazed how you’re not in shock. For all intents and purposes, you’re talking to your pet wolf.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, amused. “Really, dude? I’ve always talked to you like this. The upside part is you can answer back with words.”

They lapsed into silence.

Stiles shifted into a better position, drinking from his mug. He stared at Derek.

It was somewhat weird to have him around as a human, but it was like Stiles had been waiting for this. He was prepared and mentally ready to see his wolf be a real man and able to talk back to him.

“What about the other part?” Stiles asked quietly.

Derek met his eyes for a moment, then he turned his head to look out the window. “The part that should spook you and have you running to the hills?”

“Yup, that part.” Stiles beamed.

“There are werewolves out there. We don’t make it a habit to let people know we exist.”

“Gee. I wonder why? I’m sure it’s not wise to introduce yourself that way, huh? Hi, my name is Derek. By the way, I’m a werewolf, but don’t worry; it’s a once a month thing.”

Derek smirked. “It’s an all the time thing, Stiles.”

“The full moon?”

“What about it? It makes the untrained wolves lose control.” He got up and started pacing. “There are born werewolves, like myself, and then there are bitten werewolves.”

“Huh.” Stiles’s brain exploded in a million questions.

“Born wolves are rarer, since there are hunters. They are a group of people specialized to hunt and kill werewolves.”

“Whoa! What? Why? You’re harmless.”

“I may be, but there are others that are not as nice as me. Though, those people should allow us to teach our own kind how to behave. You don’t see us attacking random people, just because we don’t agree with the way they behave.”

“I guess.” Stiles shrugged. He had no idea if werewolves were ever involved in mass murders of humans. He doubted it, but he couldn’t be sure.

“My family has lived in this town for hundreds of years. They protected this town. There is a lot of evil out there that you have no idea about.” Derek scrubbed a hand over his face. “The tree in your dreams. That’s the Nemeton. It had been cut down shortly before tragedy struck my family. I have no idea if it helped with the negative balance, or if it was purely my fault what happened. The thing is that tree had a lot of power. It had been dormant for years. Lately, I feel it coming back to life. I have no idea if that’s a good or a bad thing.”

_Magical tree?_

“I think my head hurts,” Stiles admitted. “I swear, I’m trying to keep up. I wanted us to talk about it, but I don’t understand anything.”

“There are books out there. Alan might guide you to the correct section in the library.”

“Alan?”

“The vet. Why do you think he always sent you away? He recognized me. We talked— he talked to me about a lot of things during my visits. He kept pestering me for years to return, because the town needs an Alpha.”

“Alpha?”

“That’s how the leader of the pack is called. I’m sure you know it. You like wolves.” Derek sat at the foot of the bed. “That’s why my eyes are red. When my mother died, I inherited her power. Betas have yellow eyes and they’re second in command. There are also Omegas – the lone wolves. They usually have blue eyes. Blue means guilt after taking an innocent life.”

Stiles blinked. He could feel his brain short-circuiting.

“Too confusing?” Derek asked, touching his injured ankle.

“Too much information. I’m doing my best to absorb it. But frankly, you lost me at the tree stuff.” His eyes widened when he saw Derek’s veins darkening. “What’s going on?”

“You’re in pain. I’ve learned how to take pain from a young age.”

“You’re so lucky I’m open to all the weird things surrounding me. You’re the weirdest thing that happened to me since I moved to Beacon Hills.”

“Good weird?” Derek checked.

“Just abnormal. Like I said, I’m pro weird stuff.”

“When I got the power to become an Alpha, I also got the rare power only some born werewolves have. I could shift into a real wolf. The power in my veins was so strong that it made me shift. I never thought of returning to human life until I met you.”

“How long… I mean… Since it happened… When we met…?”

Stiles clamped his mouth shut. He wasn’t making sense.

“It had been roughly three years since it happened when you moved here. No one had lived in this house for years before you arrived. So I was drawn here out of curiosity.”

“Curiosity got the wolf a real friend,” Stiles said, smiling. “I’m glad you decided to check our little house.”

“I’m glad, too.”


	13. Chapter 13

 

“It won’t take too long,” Noah said reassuringly.

Derek nodded, but fidgeted in the chair across from the sheriff’s desk.

They were at the police station to make him an American citizen again. The papers were in the works. Noah had some strings pulled so everything would be done on fast forward.

Derek wasn’t sure if he should be happy about it or not. Noah could want him to get his life together so he’d leave them.

Then there was Stiles. He was still homebound due to his injury.

When his dad and Derek had told him over breakfast about their plans for the day, Stiles had bitched about being abandoned. In true teenager style, he had declared that he hated them both before storming away. It would have been a lot more dramatic if he could have actually stormed away, but in reality, Stiles had hopped away on his good foot, nearly losing balance before he reached the couch where he’d fallen down onto it.

One of the deputies brought Derek’s new ID card, saying he should be more careful with it.

The whole process had taken several hours, and they were running late for the appointment at the bank.

Noah thanked Deputy Parrish, leading Derek back to the cruiser.

Derek was fascinated with his identification document, staring at it carefully. He was someone again.

~#~

The bank wasn’t busy so late on a Wednesday afternoon. They went to a free employee.

The woman gestured for them to take a seat across from her, introducing herself as Lucy.

Noah took over, explaining the situation and that they wanted to find out if there was any money left in the name of Hale. Derek squirmed in his seat when Lucy eyed him suspiciously.

She took his new ID and left through a door, taking her deeper into the bank.

“Stop worrying. It’s their special trait to intimidate you.”

Derek shot Noah an amused look, and tried relaxing. “I have no idea if my family even had money with a bank.”

He knew there was a family vault, but he didn’t know where it was situated. Maybe Alan could help him.

He doubted his parents trusted a bank so much to leave their money there.

“I think this is a waste of time,” Derek muttered.

“At least, we can cross it off the list. It’s not unheard of for children not to know what their parents are doing.” Noah patted his shoulder. “Do you think Stiles knows I put money away every month so he could go to a good college?”

Derek bit his cheek to not give away the answer. Stiles had known about his college account for years. He’d told Derek all about it when he found out.

Lucy returned with a bank manager.

Derek sat up straighter, arranging his tie. Noah had taken him shopping the previous day. They had spent the whole day going from store to store getting him clothes and other necessities.

The suit he was wearing at the moment was simply uncomfortable. It was easy for him to wear a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, but not a stuffy suit.

“Good afternoon!” The bank manager shook their hands, introducing himself as Thomas Hammond. “Lucy tells me that Mr. Hale wants to obtain possession of his funds.”

“This means my family had money with the bank?” Derek asked, confused.

The manager handed him a file.

Derek stared at it, not understanding one word. He’d never been a fan of banks.

Noah leaned closer, gasping. “That’s the amount in his account?” He looked at Mr. Hammond.

“Yes, Sheriff. The Hales never made a big deal of how wealthy they were. All of it is yours, Mr. Hale.”

Derek blinked, focusing on the amount near the bottom right of the page. He had difficulty reading the large number. Twenty six million dollars.

_How?_

That was the only question in his head.

After signing more papers and getting a debit card to be able to access his funds any time he wanted, they were ready to leave. Lucy instructed him that they had an App for the phone if he wanted to be in full control of his money. Derek nodded, thanking her.

“I should be paying you back for how much you have helped me in the past few days,” Derek told Noah when they left.

“There’s no need. I’m glad now that I insisted you come here to the bank.”

“Would you mind leaving me at a phone store? I guess it’s time I buy a phone. I know how to find my way back to your house. I already kept you away from work for far too long.”

Noah smiled, nodding in agreement. “You’re a good kid, Derek. I can see why Stiles likes you.”

Derek had no idea how to answer that. He knew that Stiles liked him; _more_ than liked him.

In the past few days, he’d smelled pure arousal coming off Stiles in waves whenever they were alone. Derek had felt attracted to Stiles for some time, and now that they were on the same page and both of them human, he might be able to act on their feelings.

Derek bought an easy to use phone, or so the clerk said. He couldn’t wait to get home so Stiles could teach him how to use it.

He walked slowly, lost in thought. The town was the same, yet different from what he knew.

~#~

At home, he found the door locked.

“Wait!” Stiles shouted from somewhere inside.

Derek leaned against the wall, waiting patiently and listening carefully.

The door unlocked and was pulled open. “You’re back!” Stiles beamed.

Derek smiled, stepping into the house. He was assaulted by the smell of pizza and Scott.

“Scott’s here?”

“We’re playing one of the games Dad gave me for my birthday,” Stiles explained, not finding it odd that Derek knew his friend was over.

“Nice.” He hovered in the living room doorway. “Does Scott know?”

“Dude, the whole town knows!” Stiles grabbed his elbow. He leaned his weight on Derek. “If you’re worried about him knowing your secret, then no. I’m the only one who knows that.”

Derek peered down at his friend, wrapping an arm around Stiles’s shoulders.

They stepped into the living room. Scott wasn’t even trying to be subtle. He openly gaped at him.

“Hello, Scott!” Derek greeted him as if he’d known him for years, which was true.

“Whoa! You ARE real!”

“Bro, be nice,” Stiles chided, blushing.

Scott focused on his friend. “Give me a moment to let it sink in. Your wolf is a real person.”

“Stiles!” Derek snapped, glaring.

Stiles scurried away from Derek’s side, feeling guilty. “In my defense, he figured it out on his own. I guess my questions were too obvious when I asked him about your family.”

“And you kept calling him Derek on your birthday when we got drunk.”

Derek sank on the couch, sighing. “I don’t remember much of that night.”

“Can we not talk about that night?” Stiles protested.

“So you’re as good with weird as this spaz here?” Derek asked Scott.

“Hey!” Stiles halfheartedly smacked Derek’s shoulder.

“I’ve lived here all my life, Derek. There were rumors about your family. I guess it was a matter of time until the truth came out.”

“A truth hidden by my family for decades, decimated by two punks in a matter of days.”

Stiles leaned into his side, patting his thigh. “We’re quick like this.”

“New generations are said to be smarter,” Scott added, laughing.

“Then be smart and help me with this.” Derek pulled his new phone out of his suit jacket. “I’m going to get out of these clothes.”

Stiles choked on his spit, and Derek felt impulsed to wink at him. He didn’t care if Scott caught onto their exchange.

~#~

When Stiles found himself alone in the house for the second time in as many days, he called Scott. He wasn’t going to die of boredom while his dad and Derek were out sorting Derek’s life.

A part of him didn’t want Derek to find his footing. He knew why his dad wanted to hurry the process.

Stiles felt like his days with Derek were numbered.

He really liked him. Besides the insane attraction toward the man, Stiles considered Derek his friend. Derek knew a lot of his darkest secrets, which Stiles had told him during his loneliest nights.

Scott was in the middle of killing his character in a video game when Derek returned from his adventures in town.

Stiles should have known it wasn’t wise to lie to Derek, who could detect lies. It was a werewolf thing, probably.

With Derek gone to change his clothes, Stiles was left to set up his new phone. Stiles wondered if Derek had worked out his account with the bank, because the phone was pretty expensive.

“Is it good?” Derek asked, returning to the living room. He was wearing a pair of soft, gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

Stiles tried not to drool over how hot he looked. Life was so unfair. How was it possible for Derek to have so many muscles, defined and toned abs, when he had been working on his physique for over a year and he still looked scrawny?

“This is one of the best phones on the market. You chose well,” Stiles said, scrolling to the settings part.

“The lady who sold it said it’s not something special. I told her I only wanted a normal phone.”

“Well, she smelled your innocence.” Stiles laughed, making Scott crack up. “Don’t worry. This is an awesome phone. Did you want anything special installed?”

“Stiles, I don’t even know how to use it.”

That was all it took for Stiles to take it as a challenge and teach Derek how to use his new phone. He programmed his number in there, along with his dad’s number and Scott’s number, so his friend wouldn’t feel left out.

After Scott left that evening, Stiles went upstairs to write an essay one of his teachers wanted in place of Stiles taking the final test.

His phone pinged when he was halfway through it. He was all for ignoring it, when he read the notification that popped upon the screen.

**Derek: Can I join you?**

_**Stiles: Are you for real, buddy? I’m upstairs.** _

**Derek: I know you’re busy.**

_**Stiles: If I say no, will you take it the wrong way?** _

There was no answer.

_**Stiles: Dude, I’m sorry. You can come** _ _**up** _ _**here. You’re going to be a distraction, but I don’t mind.** _

**Derek: If you’re busy, I was thinking of going out for a while. I want to clear my head. A lot has happened in a short period of time. I want to visit my old house. Maybe** **meet up with** **Alan. I’m sure he’s wondering why I haven’t visited him yet.**

Stiles realized why Derek hadn’t answered promptly. He’d been typing a long-ass message.

_**Stiles: Sure, buddy. Take your phone with you. If you need anythin** _ _**g,** _ _**call.** _

**Derek: =) this is a smile, right?**

_**Stiles: Yup. Take care. I’ll go back to my essay.** _

Stiles heard the front door closing not a minute later. He rolled his chair to the window and watched Derek disappearing into the woods, hands stuffed in his pockets, head down.

Derek deserved the world. He’d been through so much shit that Stiles decided to make it his life goal to make sure Derek was treated right. The man deserved only nice things. If anyone, including his dad, dared to hurt Derek or make him feel less valued, Stiles planned on fighting for him.

First and foremost, Derek was his best friend; then came the complicated feelings he had toward him. Stiles was aware that Derek might reciprocate the feelings, but he was going to explore that when the right time came. He didn’t want to pressure Derek into anything.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU all for the reviews, even though I don't have the time to answer back.

 

The animal clinic was closing in five minutes if the schedule on the door was correct.

Derek stepped into the clinic, wincing at the loud bell dinging that announced his entrance.

“We’re closed; sorry!” Alan called out. Then he appeared into the front room and stopped.

“Hello, Alan.” Derek offered him a smile.

Alan was by Derek’s side so fast, Derek suspected how powerful his emissary really was as Alan caught him in a tight hug.

“It’s good to see you, too.” Derek patted the man’s back.

“Kiddo, you have no idea how happy I am to see you! I’ve heard people talking about you, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Well, I’m back.”

Alan turned the sign on the door to CLOSED, then pulled Derek into his office. They talked about Derek’s plans for the near future, Alan’s fear that there was a power waking in the Nemeton, and Derek confirming that he’d felt it, too.

“Any clue if it’s a good thing?” Derek checked. “I have no idea how to detect such things.”

“As far as I can tell, it’s nothing to be afraid of. But we must keep an eye on it.”

“Sure.”

“So you plan on moving out? I’m sure the Stilinskis consider you family by now.”

Derek laughed loudly. “Stiles knows everything. He figured it out. The sheriff has no clue, and I’d rather not start such an awkward conversation.”

“This town has always been surrounded by supernatural. He’s the sheriff. It’s just a matter of time before he has to deal with something unusual.” Alan shot him a stern look.

“Oh, he’s already dealt with crazy stuff. I’ve heard him telling Stiles some things over the years.”

“Well, I’m going to be here for you. If you ever need anything, you have to know there is a reason I’m your emissary.”

“Thanks, Alan. I’ll need a lot of guidance. I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time.”

Alan came to his side, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s understandable, kid.”

There was an odd sound in the room and his leg was vibrating. It took Derek a moment to realize his phone was ringing. He pulled it out and smiled when he noticed Stiles’s face on it. Stiles had insisted on taking a photo of his face so Derek would see who was calling.

He accepted the call. “Stiles?”

“Hey, buddy! Just checking when you’re coming back. Dad’s pulling a double.”

“Oh.”

“And I’m alone.” Stiles exhaled a somewhat shaky breath. “It’s silly, but I’m so used to having you here that I’m almost afraid of the dark.”

Derek was sure it took a long time for Stiles to admit that. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Would it be too much trouble to stop by the store and buy snacks? Please.”

“You mean chips and marshmallows?”

“You’re the best, buddy!”

“I see you are summoned,” Alan joked when Derek hung up.

“Stiles is alone. I guess he hasn’t been on his own in a while.”

“You’re a great friend. And he loves you a lot. I’m sure his feelings didn’t change when you turned into a human.”

Derek caught Alan’s eyes. “What? He can’t love me.”

“Oh, Derek. You’re so blind. You were his first real friend. You helped him through the darkest period of his life.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess.” _That kind of love,_ Derek thought to himself.

“Now, go. Don’t keep him waiting.”

~#~

Stiles was aware he was old enough to not be afraid of the dark. There was something out there, lurking. It couldn’t be his imagination.

Maybe he was too used to having Derek around.

Maybe he was finally going insane.

He didn’t know, but the darkness was scary.

His heart did a little jump when the front door opened, then closed.

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice brought a sense of calm over him.

It had been over an hour since they’d talked on the phone.

Stiles sprung up from his spot on the couch. “Where were you?” He cried out, running into the kitchen where Derek was piling bags on the table. “What the hell did you do?”

“I got some snacks.” Derek shrugged.

“You bought the whole store?” Stiles laughed, looking into the bags. Chips, sweets of all kinds, soda, pretzels.

“Fine. I’m shit at this. I got a little bit of everything I could remember you liked.”

“Awww.” Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, hugging him tightly. “I appreciate it. Let’s find a movie and pig out.”

“You choose a movie. I’ll be with you in five minutes.”

While Derek locked himself in the bathroom, Stiles carried most of the snacks into his room. They were going to watch something on his laptop.

The plan was horrible, but Stiles had to test his theory. It was way too soon to make a move, but he had to be sure Derek liked him even a tiny bit.

A part of him was utterly confused as to why he was trying to get into Derek’s pants, when for most the past few years, Lydia had been on his radar. Something had changed within Stiles, and he was sure that liking Lydia as a person was something different than wanting her as his girlfriend.

Besides, Derek was all Stiles could think of since he’d seen him as a human.

“Why are we staying here?” Derek asked from the doorway.

“My bed is more comfortable than the couch.”

Derek sat at the foot of the bed. He looked awkward and out of place.

Stiles hit play on the first movie he found downloaded in his laptop, angling the screen so they could see from the bed.

He nudged Derek until he was leaning against the wall, then he snuggled into his side. “Just like the old days. Remember how we used to watch movies?”

Derek didn’t move for a good minute, then shifted so he could wrap an arm around Stiles. He offered him a smile, keeping his attention on the little screen.

Stiles rested his cheek against Derek’s arm, keeping his eyes on the movie. He not so subtly flopped around until one of his legs was between Derek’s and his fingers were curled around Derek’s hand. Then he fell asleep.

When Stiles came around, he was still tangled in Derek and the room was dark.

_So much for seducing him._

He made to move out of Derek’s arms, since he had to use the toilet, but Derek hugged him tighter, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath.

Stiles decided he didn’t need to piss that badly, so he got more comfortable within Derek’s arms before going back to sleep.

What woke him up next was his dad’s voice yelling.

He was alone in bed.

The yelling was coming from outside his room. He focused on what was said and caught the gist of it. Dad must have returned and checked on Stiles. He found him in bed with Derek, and he was in the process of ripping him a new one.

Stiles rushed to the door of his room as fast as he could with his still injured ankle.

“Morning!” He hung onto his door, smiling at them. “Man, I’ve no idea when I fell asleep. We were watching the movie one moment, and then… nada.”

Derek shot him a panicked look, shaking his head.

“What the hell was he doing in your bed, Stiles? You can’t bring to your bed everyone who stays with us! That dog was a different story. Derek is a real person.”

“Now, Dad… Wolfie made an awesome pillow, but Derek is the best blanket. He kept me warm.”

His words did more damage. A vein popped in his dad’s forehead, Stiles gulped loudly.

“Uh, it’s all my fault, okay? Don’t do anything harsh to Derek.” Stiles stared at the bandage on his ankle as he talked. “I got scared. It came out of freaking nowhere. I was damn near having a panic attack. I needed someone close. And don’t say I should have called you. Derek did an awesome job of distracting me.”

~#~

The idea of hosting a complete stranger under their roof had gone against all Noah believed in. He’d accepted it for Stiles, and out of kindness toward the man who’d saved his son.

But from the strict orders to sleep on the couch to find him in bed with Stiles…

Noah didn’t doubt that Stiles needed someone close to him, especially after what he’d been through. It couldn’t have been easy to get lost in woods, have your foot mangled by a coyote trap, and then be saved by a former resident of the town.

Noah had yet to piece together Derek’s persona. He’d checked the file with the police report from the night of the fire. A boy believed to be Derek Hale had called the police, desperate when he’d found his house burning. When the police had arrived at the scene, the boy was nowhere in sight.

Even as the sheriff of the town, Noah wasn’t ready to sit Derek down and have a chat with him about that night. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it had been for the seventeen-year-old boy to watch as his house was consumed by flames, knowing his whole family was inside and there was nothing he could do.

Though, the way he felt about Derek didn’t absolve him from deciding to sleep in his son’s bed.

If he’d found them passed out on the bed like he’d seen Stiles and Scott over the years, there wouldn’t have been a problem. Noah was used to it. But they were tangled up in each other.

For the first time, a thought crossed Noah’s mind. Maybe there was indeed more between his son and Derek. They’d been awfully close ever since Derek had rescued him. Besides, it seemed that they’d known each other for years.

Stiles wasn’t the easiest person to deal with, especially around new people. He always shied away before he befriended someone.

Noah chose to drop the argument, however, because it was clear he wasn’t going to win. Stiles was a master at arguing. He decided he’d keep a close eye on his son’s relationship with their guest.


	15. Chapter 15

 

Stiles pretended not to notice what Derek was doing on his laptop. When Derek wanted to borrow his laptop for five minutes, Stiles hadn’t imagined he’d want to check something so horrible.

When Derek spent more time than acceptable looking over details regarding a loft downtown, Stiles got out of the bed. He threw away his pretense book, and walked to Derek who was at the desk.

Stiles leaned over his shoulder, bringing their faces really close.

“What’s this fuckery, dude?”

Derek glanced at him with the corner of his eye. “It’s time I moved out, Stiles.”

“No. You can live with us.”

“I can’t abuse your dad’s kindness. I have the money. I like this loft. I want my own place.”

Stiles pulled away as something inside him broke. Derek didn’t want them anymore. He wanted his own life, away from Stiles and his dad.

“Hey.” Derek spun around on the chair, taking Stiles’s hands. “We’re still going to be friends. I know you grew used to having me here all the time, but you have to let me do this. I’m not a wolf anymore. I’m a man and I want my own place.”

Stiles blinked rapidly, trying to turn around so Derek wouldn’t see his tears, but Derek got up and enveloped him in a tight hug.

“Look, Scott is your best friend. You see each other every day and _he_ doesn’t live with you.”

“That’s different,” Stiles muttered, hating himself when his voice broke.

Derek stroked a hand over Stiles’s cheek. “I promise we’ll still be friends. If you care for me as much as I know you do, please let me do this. I need to become independent. My door will always be open for you.”

Stiles flashed him a watery smile. “It’s going to be so quiet and lonely without you here. And of course I care about you, dude! You’ve been here for me when I hit rock bottom. Of course, I’ll encourage you to do anything you want.”

After that decision to allow Derek to do whatever he wanted, things moved forward so fast that Stiles had trouble keeping up with it.

Dad helped Derek secure the loft he’d seen on the website. Within the week, the place was Derek’s and he was moved in there. He didn’t have more than the necessities in the loft, but it seemed to be everything Derek wanted.

Despite the fact that they made an effort to talk to each other each day, and most nights they fell asleep on the phone, Stiles could feel distance growing like a canyon between them.

Stiles was with Scott, catching up, when Derek called to let him know he’d found a job. In that moment, Stiles understood that Derek was older, wiser, and figuring out his own life. A life that didn’t involve Stiles.

“Dude, what happened?” Scott asked, worried, when Stiles became visibly distressed by his phone call.

“Derek is getting further away. It wasn’t enough that he’d moved out. Now he found himself a job.”

“Isn’t that what adults do?” Scott frowned.

“Bro, I miss my wolf. Life was so much easier when he was my fluffy wolf.”

“Stiles, nothing has changed. He’s still Derek. You talk every day. You even meet for breakfast or lunch.”

“You don’t get it, do you? I bet you realized I like him. A lot.” Stiles gulped thickly. “Hell, I think I’m in love with him. And now that he’s back to human life… he’s found a life away from me. I’m just a stupid teenager with a huge crush on him. Derek definitely knows, because… werewolf nose,” he finished in a whisper. He couldn’t risk his dad hearing his conversation with Scott.

“Then act on it. You may not see it, but he likes you just as much. I’ve caught him staring at you as if you were the most precious thing.”

“Please….” Stiles rolled his eyes. Derek couldn’t feel the same.

“Trust me, dude. I have eyes. You’re both blind.”

“It’s time I got some answers.” Stiles got up from his bed, grabbing the keys to his Jeep.

They walked downstairs and stopped in the living room. His dad was watching TV.

“I’m driving Scott home. I might stay over; he’s got a new game.”

“Okay. Be careful. Call and tell me if it turns into a sleepover,” his father said, distracted.

“Will do.”

“Bye, Sir,” Scott called over his shoulder as Stiles pulled him out of the house. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m driving you home...then I’m going to pay Derek a visit.”

~#~

The loft was everything Derek could want in the first place he called his own.

He was proud of himself for finding the will to move out of the sheriff’s house. If he’d listened to his heart, he’d still be living off the sheriff’s couch and sneaking into Stiles’s room whenever the sheriff pulled a night shift or a double.

Stiles.

The guy had been personally offended by his decision to move out.

Derek tried his best to keep their relationship going strong, but he could see it was eroding. They had their separate lives. Stiles had two more years of school, then college, which was most likely going to be on the other side of the country, while Derek was finding a rhythm in his new life. He’d acquired the loft, and he’d recently found a job. It wasn’t anything fancy, but he’d always liked computers. Noah had suggested the police station needed a better IT guy.

Stiles wasn’t happy at all when Derek broke the news about his new job. And he hadn’t heard where he’d be working.

After they hung up, Derek took a shower while waiting for the takeout he’d ordered.

When he returned to the living room in just a towel to check his phone and see how long until the food arrived, he gasped in shock. He’d grown so used to Stiles’s scent that his nose should have detected that Stiles was in his loft.

The teenager was on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, looking at home and bored as hell.

“Stiles?” Derek asked, confused. He knew the boy had copies of keys he shouldn’t have, but he had no idea when Stiles had managed to copy his key as well.

“Oh, you’re done!” Stiles scrambled up, turning to face him. His brown eyes widened, trailing over his body.

There were times like this when Derek was certain Stiles returned his feelings.

“Should I ask how you got inside my place?”

“I intercepted the delivery guy.” Stiles gestured toward the kitchen area, not taking his eyes off Derek’s chest.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Fine. I copied your key. Sue me.”

“I could tell your dad,” Derek suggested teasingly.

“Or we could eat some pizza and have a much needed talk.” Stiles found his eyes, showing him how serious he was.

“Give me a moment to put some pants on.”

Stiles’s eyes lowered to the towel and his face grew red.

“My dick just died,” Stiles mumbled, shifting from one foot to the other.

Derek shot him a dazed look. “Huh?”

“Can I bury it in your ass?”

“What?! Stiles!” Derek choked out.

Stiles was known for his atrocious timing and unwise choice of words, but he’d never said anything like that around Derek – and aimed at Derek.

“My bad. You want to do the burying?”

“I’m not sure…”

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles flailed his arms around. “Your sensitive wolfy nose must have picked up on how much you turn me on! I know for a fact that I affect you as much. Why the hell haven’t we talked about this yet?”

“Stiles…”

“Oh, God! Stop skirting around the issue! Just tell me if I’ve made a huge fool of myself, or if you actually return my feelings!”

Derek walked to Stiles, touching his arm. “I guess we’ve both been silly.”

“You guess?” Stiles gave out a choked laugh.

“We’ll talk about this when I’m a little more decent. Plate the food, will you?”

“I like you indecent,” Stiles whispered, then he blushed harder. “Can you pretend you didn’t hear that?”

Derek smirked, leaning closer. Stiles stopped breathing. Then Derek pressed his nose into the side of Stiles’s neck, just like when he’d been a wolf. Stiles sighed, patting the top of Derek’s head.

~#~

He changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before rejoining Stiles. They sat at the island, facing each other.

Stiles’s fingers shook as he pushed a plate toward Derek. There was too much food piled on it, but it didn’t matter. Eating was the last thing on Derek’s mind.

He stared at Stiles. The gentle boy he’d watched grow up over the years. Stiles’s eyes were jumping from Derek’s eyes to his lips to a spot behind him. Whenever their eyes met, Stiles’s heart would skip a beat.

“What are you looking at?” Stiles squirmed nervously.

Derek took his hand across the counter, squeezing it. “You.”

Stiles was about to scoff when he most likely noticed the sincerity in Derek’s voice reflected on his face. Derek was sure he’d screw up, but he was willing to try.

~#~

Stiles couldn’t look away from Derek.

The best part was that Derek turned out to be as much into Stiles as Stiles was into Derek — that smile showing a hint of bunny teeth, his shining blue-green eyes, his beard. Stiles had no idea what was so fascinating about Derek’s beard, but he wanted to touch it and rub his cheek against it.

Derek rubbed his thumb over Stiles’s knuckles, still smiling.

“If you don’t do anything, this will get utterly awkward,” Stiles mumbled.

Derek picked up Stiles’s hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the palm. “This situation is just as new and incredible for me, as it is to you.”

Stiles managed a choked laugh. “I’ve never been so nervous in my life.”

“We should talk about this step we’re about to take. Are you sure it’s what you want?”

“It’s all I want now and tomorrow and for a long time to come,” Stiles admitted promptly.

“For me as well.”

“Come on, Derek. I’m sure it’s strange for you to feel attracted to another guy. For the past year, I thought my future was with Lydia, and I worked on this crazy plan to get her. Then… I realized all I wanted was under my nose.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time. There were times when I wanted to shift back to human and hug you and kiss you.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time too. Even though you were my wolf, your personality made me love you. I told you so many times.”

“I thought it was just you being friendly with your pet wolf.”

“Please, dude!” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Then I saw you for the first time in my hospital room.” He looked away for a moment, realizing that Derek had seen him as he was for years, but Stiles had been waiting for something all that time. He’d always known there was more to his wolf than met the eye. When Stiles had seen Derek for the first time, he’d been in shock for hours. No one he’d ever met had been so good-looking and kind and loving as Derek. After the initial shock was over, Stiles had decided that Derek would be his, one way or another.

“I know.” Derek’s words pulled Stiles away from his thoughts.

When their eyes met again, Stiles knew that by the end of the night they’d have at least kissed. He couldn’t wait to set out on this new adventure with Derek. It wasn’t going to be easy and they had to be careful, but he was willing to do anything in his power to make it work.


	16. Chapter 16

 

After eating, Derek led Stiles to the couch. Before they could reach it, Stiles halted them, jerking Derek to a stop by pulling at his hand.

Derek turned to look at Stiles, but the boy was closer than he expected. Stiles leaned into him, pecking the corner of his mouth. His lips were so soft and Derek hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time. A new desire awoke inside of him as he placed a hand on Stiles’s back, keeping him in place. Then he tentatively pressed his lips to Stiles’s, while searching his wide eyes. When Stiles’s eyelids fluttered shut and he became pliable in Derek’s arms, Derek knew it was a good sign.

Kissing was something he hadn’t given much thought to in the day. It was a gesture that led to sex. His first kisses weren’t spectacular, even though they had been shared with the only person he’d loved. But kissing Stiles was like an explosion, seeing galaxies, growing wings. It might sound too romantic, but Derek fell a little deeper while kissing Stiles.

Their mouths moved over each other, Stiles’s hands were in his hair, and he was making little noises in the back of his throat.

Derek’s hands traveled lower down Stiles’s back until they reached his ass. Stiles bucked into him, groaning loudly, keeping his groin pressed against Derek’s. There was no mistaking how turned on either of them was.

When Derek felt vibrations against his hardening dick, it took him a moment to figure out what was happening. It seemed Stiles was too far gone to understand his phone was ringing.

“Your phone,” Derek said hoarsely.

Stiles’s pupils were blown and it took a beat for his vision to focus. He blinked several times, then extracted his phone from his pocket.

“The plan was to call if you decided on the sleepover,” Noah’s upset voice came from Stiles’s phone. Derek doubted he needed to use his supernatural hearing with how loud Stiles’s dad was.

“What?” Stiles kept blinking, trying to gather his wits. “Right. Yes. Sleepover.”

“So you’re staying over? I know for a fact that Melissa is still at the hospital.”

“Yeah. We’re still testing the games,” Stiles lied through his teeth.

Derek watched him, confused.

“Scott,” Stiles mouthed.

Was he supposed to spend the night at his best friend’s house? Derek hated when Stiles lied to his dad.

“Sorry about that,” Stiles chucked his phone to the couch. “Where were we?”

“Easy there.” Derek kept him at arm’s length, frowning. “Why did you lie to your dad?”

“So he thinks I’m at Scott’s. So what? Scott knows I’m here.”

“I don’t like this.” Derek brought Stiles closer, stroking his hair. “Despite what you may think is going to happen tonight… I don’t plan on taking you to bed.”

“Way to crush a guy’s fantasizes,” Stiles pouted.

“I know we won’t resist the temptation if I suggest we wait until you turn eighteen.”

“Are you nuts?”

“Let me finish.” Derek glared. “But I want to do this the right way.”

“Dude, in case you haven’t noticed, we already know each other. For seven years! Okay, you don’t want sex right now. I’m not sure I’m ready for that tonight, either. But what the fuck? I want to stay with you. Maybe kiss some more?”

Stiles had a point. Dating would be pointless for its original purpose – to get to know the other person.

“Maybe I want to take you out to movies or a coffee?” Derek suggested.

“Sure.” Stiles kissed under Derek’s chin. “I don’t want to make plans. I just want to go with the wind.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“YES!” Stiles shouted, grabbing fistfuls of Derek’s shirt. He pushed Derek on the couch, then straddled his legs.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked, a little panicked.

“Getting comfy to kiss you some more. I might develop a fetish with your beard.”

~#~

Keeping secrets was always difficult, but keeping such a secret about a relationship was downright exhausting.

Stiles hadn’t answered Scott’s questions the day following his time spent at Derek’s loft. They’d kissed for hours, then decided to watch a movie, but ended up kissing some more, and then they fell asleep on the couch.

Being summer, Stiles’s curfew had been extended to eleven. He was super pleased with it, because it gave him some time with Derek after the man returned from work.

On a Friday, Stiles was so desperate that he couldn't wait until they met at Derek’s loft.

He drove to the best burger joint in town, bought three meals, and went to the station. His dad would be pleased to eat something other than boiled veggies and salads.

“Hey!” Stiles greeted Parrish with a smile. “Is Dad in his office?” His eyes scanned the room, hoping to spot Derek.

“Yes, but he’s busy.”

“He always has time for me.” Stiles winked, heading toward the door that had his dad’s name on it.

Without knocking, he stepped inside. He made a squeaking sound he wasn’t proud of, but the last thing he expected to see was Derek’s fine ass poking out from under his dad’s desk.

Dad was pacing, but stopped when he noticed Stiles.

“Stiles!”

There was a thud from under the desk. Stiles hoped that Derek hadn’t hit his head.

“Hey! I brought food.”

“Burgers?” His dad’s eyes narrowed. “What have you done? Or more exactly, what do you plan on doing? You don’t bring me such unhealthy food just because you’re being nice.”

“I’m wounded,” Stiles mumbled.

“So what do you want?”

“Can’t I bring you burgers just because?”

Derek shuffled out from under the desk. His eyes met Stiles’s for a moment, then he turned to Stiles’s father. “I think we have to replace the motherboard.”

“Damn it! How fast can you do that?”

“Depends on whether or not we have a new one in storage. I’ll check.” As Derek passed Stiles, he winked.

Stiles became weak at the knees, turning to stare after his boyfriend’s retreating form. He licked his lips, his stomach a tight knot of nerves. He’d grown to associate that feeling with being around Derek. It was most likely butterflies.

“You miss him, huh?”

“What? NO!” Stiles stared, shocked at his dad.

“I miss him, too. That guy deserves all good things in life. He saved you, and he’s been real nice to us; polite and humble.”

Stiles blinked. He had no idea where his dad was heading with his speech. Did he know?

“So I was thinking…”

“… yes?” Stiles prompted him.

“How would you feel if I invited Derek over for lunch tomorrow?”

“Like a date?” Stiles choked out, his head spinning.

“Like … a … STILES!” His dad threw his hands in the air. “What the hell, kiddo?”

“Brain to mouth filter… gone,” he apologized. “Sure. That would be cool.” He tried not to start jumping up and down from happiness.

Derek chose that moment to return with a box. “Found this in the storage room. It should work until we get funds to buy a new one.”

“I’ll probably have to change the computer,” Dad said.

“That’s not a bad idea. I can help you with it when you decide to do it.”

Stiles placed the bag of burgers on the desk, while Derek got to work on replacing the motherboard. He was under the desk once again, so Stiles casually threw himself in his dad’s chair.

He reached out to touch Derek’s shoulder, squeezing it.

“So, Derek?” Dad called, trying to get his employee’s attention.

“Yes, Sir?” Derek touched Stiles’s calf, making Stiles shiver all over.

“I was wondering if you had any plans for tomorrow.”

Derek glanced up. Stiles shot him a wide smile, threading his fingers through Derek’s hair. After finishing replacing the motherboard, he crawled out from under the desk to face Stiles’s father.

“No plans, Sir.”

“Would you like to have lunch with us? I’ll cook.”

Stiles made to protest, but his Dad shot him a look that kept him silent. He could do with some fried food.

“Your cheat day turned into a cheat weekend,” Stiles said after Derek nodded in agreement.

“I deserve some other food besides that healthy shit you insist on cooking.”

“Well, the healthy shit is keeping you alive. The doc said your last blood tests were awesome!” Stiles showed him two thumbs up.

His father rolled his eyes.

Derek laughed, somewhat nervously. “I’ll be there for lunch. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lunch date with Patrick’s computer.”

“Quite the social butterfly, huh?” Dad chuckled.

“I brought three meals,” Stiles blurted out. “Wanna eat outside and catch up?” He gave Derek a hard look that meant he had to say yes.

“I guess Patrick’s computer can wait.”

“I’ll skip the invitation, though I’ll accept the burger,” Stiles’s dad said.

“You weren’t invited,” Stiles said seriously. He picked out the healthiest of the burgers and placed the box on the desk.

On the way out of the office, he stopped himself in time before he could take Derek’s hand. His fingers itched to touch him.

They walked to a bench situated on the side of the police station.

Stiles pulled out his burger, taking a large bite of it. “How is it working for Dad?”

“Absolutely crazy. I feel like I’m seeing him more than I see you.”

“That’s true.” Stiles shifted closer, leaning into Derek. “I’m not so sure about keeping this hidden. I can’t keep a secret to save my life.”

“We have to, Stiles. Your dad could arrest me.”

“It’s consensual, dude! You’re not doing anything I don’t want you to do.”

“That’s not what adults see.”

Stiles tilted his head, bringing their faces close. “What do adults know?”

“Stiles, believe me, if it was possible, I’d tell the whole word I’m dating the most amazing guy.” Derek brought a curly fry to Stiles’s lips. “But we can’t. I like my job. I’d rather your dad not fire me, or worse… fire AT me.”

“I bet you’d heal.” Stiles winked, accepting the curly fry, allowing his lips to touch Derek’s fingers.

Derek shook his head, smiling fondly.


	17. Chapter 17

 

Saturday lunch turned into Sunday dinner when Derek called to apologize that something had come up. Stiles thought that was some lame excuse for his dad, but when he called Derek, he was told the same thing.

At five in the afternoon on Sunday, Stiles was in his room, trying to read one of the books he was assigned for the summer. He’d read the same paragraph a dozen times without understanding a single word.

The purr of a car engine came closer to their house. Curious about who it could be, he rolled his chair to the window.

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped at the sight. A sleek black Camaro parked behind Roscoe. Stiles cringed at the state of his jeep. It needed a good wash.

He whimpered when he saw who stepped out of the sports car. Derek Hale.

What? When? How? Those questions zoomed through Stiles’s head.

Then Derek looked up, taking his sunglasses off.

Stiles fell out of his chair. While lying on the floor, he proceeded to bang his head against it.

He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands and eyes off Derek. It was impossible.

“Derek's here!” Dad shouted soon afterward.

Stiles already knew that, but he was trying to get a hold of himself.

When he found enough courage to go downstairs, he saw his dad and Derek in the doorway, talking about Derek’s new car.

Derek was still wearing the leather jacket and those tight blue jeans. Stiles slipped between Derek and the door frame, inconspicuously touching Derek’s ass.

“Nice ride,” he commented.

“Wanna test it?” Derek’s eyes showed how much he wanted some alone time with him.

“You need help with dinner?” Stiles leaned over Derek’s muscled chest to look at his dad.

“Go and have fun. Dinner will be ready later.”

Stiles pulled Derek to his new car by the hem of his jacket.

Derek steered him to the passenger side, saying no one besides him was driving his car. Stiles chose to let him think he’d won.

The inside smelled of leather.

“Do you have a boner for my car?” Derek joked, getting comfortable behind the wheel.

“How the hell did you get this?”

“There’s this amazing invention known as a car dealership. I went there, tested several cars, then I saw this beauty. I wanted some additions to it, so I had to wait.”

“So that’s why you stood us up yesterday?”

“I’m sorry.” Derek shot him an apologetic look, taking Stiles’s hand.

Stiles shot a panicked look to the still open front door.

“Tinted glass,” Derek explained.

It was all Stiles needed to throw himself at Derek, kissing him enthusiastically.

“Let’s put some distance between us and your dad before we make the car rock.”

“Oh, my GOD. You didn’t say that. Wait. You want to sex me up in the backseat? It’s kinda small, but I can totally work with that.”

“I only want to make it out of here without a bullet in my body.”

Stiles retreated to his seat, attaching his seatbelt. He drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “Where to?”

“A tour of the town, then we’ll see how much time we have until dinner is ready.”

“That sound!” Stiles moaned when Derek revved the engine. “Holy…”

“Don’t cream your jeans over the sound of my car.”

“No promises. Your sexiness just went through the roof.” Stiles eyed him up and down. “Hot bod. That beard of yours. Such tight jeans they should be illegal. Leather jacket. Aviator shades. And a freaking Camaro. When did I get so lucky?”

“You do realize you’re crazy?”

“Oh, and above it all, you’re a werewolf who can turn at will into my fluffy wolf.”

Derek growled from deep in his chest, scowling.

“Sometimes, you’re my Sourwolf.”

Derek made a turn to the preserve from the main road. After a short bumpy ride, he stopped the car and turned to Stiles.

“You talk too much.”

“Watcha gonna do about it?”

Derek unbuckled their seatbelts, then he was on top of Stiles. “Kissing you is the best way to keep you quiet.”

“Mhmmm. I totally agree.”

~#~

Noah was grateful to be able to cook whatever he wanted without the risk of Stiles dumping it in the trash, explaining that too much grease was bad for his heart.

He appreciated his son’s concern for his health, but the kid was paranoid.

When dinner was ready, he checked the time. It was nearing seven.

He was about to take his phone and call his wayward son when the front door opened.

Stiles had a huge smile on his face and Derek was doing a bad job of stifling his own smile, his eyes on Stiles.

“What has you so happy?” Noah asked curiously.

“You wouldn’t believe it!” Stiles beamed. “Derek allowed me to drive his car! I think I’m in love.”

“I bet Roscoe feels betrayed,” Noah said, amused.

Stiles’s eyes widened, as he lost some of the enthusiasm. “No way. I’d never betray the Jeep. Come on, Dad! It was a one time thing.”

“I’ve got to say your son is a good driver,” Derek commented.

“Good? I’m excellent!”

“And modest,” Noah joked.

Stiles glared at them, folding his arms across his chest. “Are you two done with making fun of me?”

“We’ve just begun.” Derek touched Stiles’s back.

Stiles leaned into Derek, poking his tongue out, then elbowing him in the ribs.

“Well, dinner is ready,” Noah let them know.

While eating, Noah and Derek discussed work-related things until Stiles complained that it was Sunday and they shouldn’t think of work. After a moment of silence when they didn’t know what other subject to touch upon, Stiles started talking about some new movie he wanted to watch.

After eating, Noah ushered them away from the kitchen, declining any kind of help.

Stiles lingered long enough to make coffee. He took two mugs outside, telling his father that he could find them on the porch.

When Noah was done washing dishes and putting the leftovers away, he filled his own mug of coffee and walked to the front door. He stopped before he could open it.

He could see Stiles and Derek through the window. They were sitting close on the step, leaning into each other, Stiles’s head on Derek’s shoulder.

That was completely unusual. The position reminded Noah of the time he’d seen Stiles and Wolfie many times.

He opened the door, deciding to find out what was going on. It wasn’t difficult to see how attuned they were, but Noah hadn’t seen any hints from his son about being attracted to men. Though Derek seemed to like his son back, judging by the hand loosely wrapped around him.

“… not a terrible idea,” Stiles whispered.

“I haven’t been there in a while,” Derek admitted, equally softly.

“I could come with you. I bet it’s difficult.”

Derek dropped his arm away from Stiles’s shoulders and shifted a few inches away. Then he looked over his shoulder at Noah, his ears red.

Noah chose to ignore the awkward moment. He had to keep a closer eye on them and see if his theory was correct.

“Why so serious?” He asked, sitting on a porch chair. From his position he had a great view of his son and Derek. It didn’t escape him how Stiles leaned his back against Derek’s side when he turned to look at him.

“We were discussing…” Stiles titled his head to Derek, and when Derek nodded, Stiles returned his eyes to him. “… Derek wants to see if his old house can be saved. I’m sure he’d like to live there if it’s possible to restore it.”

“I haven’t seen the house myself, but from the pictures it didn’t look good.”

“It’s definitely not safe,” Stiles said seriously.

“And how do you know that?” Noah raised a brow.

“Uh. Yeah… that.” Stiles shifted uncomfortably. “Remember when Wolfie ran away? I searched for him and found the house.”

“How do you know—”

“It’s Derek’s house. I asked Scott about the house in the woods. Come on, Dad. Give me some credit. I’m a good detective.”

Noah sipped from his coffee, looking toward the forest. “Sometimes I miss that damn dog.”

Derek made a choked sound, and Stiles burst out laughing.

That was definitely not the reaction he’d expected.

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just I didn’t expect you to admit to missing Wolfie.”

“Are you sure Deaton can’t track him? We planted that chip in him.”

“Yes, Dad. I talked to Dr. Deaton myself. Sometimes those chips don’t work. Like with the GPS.”

“Wolfie was our dog for about six years. He ran away a few months ago,” Noah explained, not sure if Stiles had told Derek about their pet.

Derek made another choked sound. Noah couldn’t tell if he was trying not to laugh or cry.

“He knows Wolfie. I mean, he knows about Wolfie,” Stiles said, patting Derek’s thigh.

“Wolfie sounds great from what Stiles told me,” Derek managed to say.

“He was. Though he spent all his time with Stiles, he sometimes allowed me around him.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “It’s because you were suspicious of him.”

“I have no idea what caused him to run away. He had a home here with us and you adored him. I’m grateful he was here for you through the years. I don’t know if you realized it, but he helped you a lot, Stiles.”

“I know.” Stiles shot Derek a small smile.

“I should get going. I plan on arriving early tomorrow to take a look at a few computers before the deputies arrive,” Derek said, getting up slowly.

“I’ll ask around if anyone knows a good house restorer to help you.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Derek moved his eyes to Stiles. “See you.” Then he walked to his car.

Noah was ready to ask as discreetly as possible if Stiles had something to tell him when Stiles sprung up and rushed after Derek, shouting that he had forgotten his phone.

Noah was pretty sure he’d seen Derek pocketing his phone after checking the time earlier.

He watched as his son disappeared around the car, probably bent over the window. Ten minutes later, Derek’s Camaro was driving down the road, and Stiles returned to his previous spot. His hair was sticking up at the back as if it had been pulled on, and if Noah wasn’t mistaken his lips were swollen.

He decided to wait and see how long his son could keep such a secret. In that moment it was clear that there was something going on between Stiles and Derek.


	18. Chapter 18

 

Life had no meaning.

He was just a sixteen-year-old guy.

What sane adult would actually like him? Why was Derek wasting his time with him?

Stiles was aware he wasn’t even good-looking. He was the ugly duckling beside Derek, who looked like an underwear model.

There was no real explanation why Derek was dating him.

Maybe he felt obliged, because Stiles and his dad had kept him under their roof for years.

Stiles hoped he wasn’t a pity fuck. Not that they’d fucked yet. Which itself spoke volumes. Derek didn’t find him desirable enough.

When it became difficult to breathe, Stiles knew that the panic attack was on its way to becoming full-blown.

With shaky fingers, he texted Derek that he was having a panic attack.

Derek had been the only one to pull him out of such a dark situation for years.

Stiles kicked himself for working himself up with such crazy thoughts bad enough to make him panic.

He gasped wildly, rocking back and forth on his bed.

Why did his dad have to work the night shift?

Why wasn’t Derek answering his text?

More dark, crazy scenarios clouded his mind. Derek was probably babying him too much. Who would want such a broken person?

Stiles jumped, startled when a large, black wolf burst into his room.

Stiles managed a squeak, unable to articulate words.

Derek leaped onto the bed, curling on Stiles’s lap and butting his muzzle under Stiles’s chin.

It was the first time Derek had shifted back into a wolf since he’d returned to human life.

Stiles wrapped his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and burrowing his face into the soft fur. Derek loved him so much that he most likely panicked himself when he read Stiles’s text message. He had wanted to come to him so quickly that he had chosen to turn into a wolf.

“I hope you know how to shift back.”

Derek nodded, licking at Stiles’s neck.

“I feel so much better now.” Stiles stroked Derek’s back. “My head is a scary place.”

Derek titled his head, meeting his eyes. He showed him that he understood and he wasn’t judging.

Stiles pressed his cheek on top of Derek’s head, closing his eyes. He hated the hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Stiles admitted into the soft fur. When Derek froze under him, Stiles stroked a hand over his side. “Don’t say anything back. Just stay here, like this.”

~#~

When Derek was sure Stiles was sleeping, he extricated away from the boy’s tight grip. He sniffed at Stiles’s wet face, not liking it when Stiles cried.

He jumped to the floor, returning to his human form. Quietly, he dug into Stiles’s closet. Stiles had kept a change of clothing that Noah had brought him when he had lived with them.

Derek tugged on a pair of blue brief boxers, then crawled back into bed behind Stiles.

He could still remember the shock he had experienced when he’d read Stiles’s text message. Derek knew how bad Stiles’s panic attacks could be. One minute he was fine, then he thought of something that triggered an attack.

Derek hadn’t seen such a bad panic attack for Stiles in years. He used to have bad ones when he was ten, but that was to be expected with all the changes in his life.

Stiles shifted in his sleep, molding his body against Derek’s. His back was to Derek’s front, his posture relaxed.

“I love you, too,” Derek whispered against Stiles’s hair, wrapping an arm around him.

Despite being tired and being the last to fall asleep, Derek woke up at the sound of stairs creaking.

He had enough time to pull away from Stiles, but not get out of the bed.

Noah’s heart was beating erratically as he moved fast toward Stiles’s room. It took Derek a moment to figure out why Noah was scared.

Derek had pretty much torn down the back door last night.

Noah gasped in surprise when he opened the door and saw Derek. Then anger rolled in waves off him.

Derek knew he’d crossed a line, but he was going to tell him the truth. With a finger over his lips, he gestured to the hallway.

Glad he’d been inspired to leave the clothes he’d found on the chair, he stepped into a pair of sweatpants and tugged a shirt over his head, then left Stiles’s room.

Noah wasn’t in the hallway, so Derek followed his scent to the kitchen.

“You better have a good explanation, Hale. This is the second time I’ve found you in my son’s bed.”

“Sir, I’m not sure if this a conversation you should have with me, but I know Stiles will never tell you.”

“Since you’re both involved in this mess, I’d rather you both come out,” Noah muttered.

Derek shut his mouth, derailed from his explanation about Stiles’s panic attack. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Oh, please. Do you think I’m blind? I have to admit that Stiles is being careful not to spill the beans, but I can see there’s something between you two.”

“Like you said, this is something we both should tell you. I’m not sure why I’m surprised that you figured it out.”

“Then what did you want to tell me?” Noah leaned against the counter.

Derek gulped. Stiles could hate him forever for this, but it was for his own good. “Did you know Stiles still has panic attacks?”

Noah's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean, _still_?”

Derek kicked himself for not thinking the conversation through. He ran a hand through his hair. “I have no idea where to start. Stiles is good with weird, but I don’t know how tolerable you are.”

“What do you mean? Derek, you better explain yourself soon. I’m tired, my nerves are shot, and I really don’t want to lash out at you.”

“Let’s focus on your son’s panic attacks for now. And let’s leave it at the fact that I know he’s had them since he was ten. They went away for a while. I don’t know what brought them back, but last night he messaged me that he was having a bad one. I’m sorry for the back door, but I was in a haste to get to him.”

“Damn it!” Noah scrubbed at his face.

“I’m really sorry you had to find out this way. You should talk to him, without letting him know I told you.”

“Why, because I might hate your backstabbing, werewolf ass?” Stiles shouted from behind him.

Derek spun around to see the pure hatred in Stiles’s eyes.

“How could you, Derek? I trusted you! Why did you tell Dad?”

“Son, Derek said it’s not something he should tell me. I insisted. The real question here is why haven’t you told me?” Noah made to approach his son, but Stiles ducked away from being touched.

“Because you’d take me to see more doctors. I’m sick of them. This traitor has helped me better than any doctor. I’ve trusted you with this secret for six years, Derek! SIX fucking years!” Stiles’s eyes welled up. “What the hell? Why would you tell Dad?” Stiles’s voice broke. “I know last night was pretty fucked up, but there was no need to tell him.”

“Why do you think it was so bad last night?”

“Because you weren’t there to catch me before it became too much.”

“Oh, no. Don’t blame this on me.”

“And this is the exact reason I had a panic attack. You’ve moved on. You have your own life – away from me. I don’t have you here to rely on,” Stiles sobbed. “I need you here, Derek. Don’t you get it? I became too dependent on you, and I don’t care if it’s unhealthy.”

“Back up a second.” Noah stepped between them.

Derek could feel his blood boiling inside him. He hadn’t been so angry since his teen years. When he was on this level of angry, he knew that his control on the shift slipped. He couldn’t risk popping claws or sprouting fangs in front of Noah.

“One of you better explain this to me.” His eyes turned to Derek. “How could you have known my son for six years?” Then he turned to Stiles. “I thought we talked about anything that bothered us, kiddo.”

“All the facts are staring you in the face. You’re the policeman. Piece it together, Dad,” Stiles muttered. He glared at Derek, taking a step closer to him. “You betrayed all the trust I’ve ever had in you. We’re done. Whatever we were doing, it’s over.”

The world crumbled under Derek’s feet. Stiles was his only friend.

He’d been impossibly stupid to tell Noah about Stiles’s panic attack. That was such a delicate subject.

Noah shot him a worried expression, then gave his son a surprised look.

Stiles threw his arms up in the air. “If we’re talking about things we shouldn’t,” he said venomously, “then know that Derek here is Wolfie. There… I said it! You can kill me later for spilling your secret. I’m off to Scott’s. Don’t call me! Either of you!”

The front door rattled when Stiles slammed it shut in his wake.

“Even if I tried to explain what you just heard, you wouldn't believe me right now. Get some rest, Sheriff.”

“I might sleep on it. One thing, though. Do you plan on listening to Stiles?”

“For now.” He’d done too much damage. If he pushed Stiles too much, he might ruin all his chances to get him back.


	19. Chapter 19

 

The feeling of betrayal stung.

Stiles had always trusted Derek. He had never imagined Derek capable of such distrust.

The fact that Stiles still had panic attacks was something only Derek knew. His dad thought the attacks were gone, but Stiles had become a master at hiding his feelings. And Wolfie used to sense when Stiles worked himself up.

Scott was clueless when it came to his friend coming over, downright hysteric, kicking and screaming that he hated Derek.

Part of him felt bad for outing Derek’s secret to his dad, but in his defense he hadn’t thought clearly when he’d heard Derek telling Dad about his panic attack.

Many hours had passed since Stiles had arrived at Scott’s. He’d calmed down, but refused to explain the circumstances of the situation to his best friend. Eventually, Scott stopped trying to ask for details, and they fell asleep.

For the first time, without Derek’s super powers, Stiles dreamed of the tree. The Nemeton, Derek had called it.

He was by the tree stump with Derek as a wolf beside him. The grass was green and the other trees surrounding it were tall and in bloom. The positive energy coming from the tree made him feel powerful and told him the town was safe.

Then the scenery changed.

Stiles was in front of the stump, but the clearing was void of life. There were little luminous flies zooming around and dark shadows closing in, approaching from the bare trees surrounding the stump. Stiles shivered in fright.

He woke up in a cold sweat.

He had no idea how he and Derek could protect the town if they were together, but if anything similar to the second dream happened because of their fight, Stiles didn’t want to be responsible of that.

Pride was a sin. But Stiles was a proud person.

Derek had to make the first step and come to him with a good explanation for his betrayal.

~#~

Stiles spent the following week at Scott’s. He called his father exactly twice to let him know he was staying with his friend, and that he wasn’t coming back until he promised there would be no therapists involved.

Melissa tried to convince him to go home in the beginning, but eventually gave up. Stiles was aware she called his dad with updates daily, though.

It was early evening on Sunday, and Stiles was returning from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. Scott had agreed to binge-watch Star Wars with him.

“Yeah, I told you that he’s here.” Stiles stopped in the doorway, listening to his friend talking on the phone. He became instantly suspicious of who Scott was talking to. “That’s a bad idea. Look, I have to go. Stiles can’t know I’ve been talking to you.”

Stiles waited for Scott to hang up, then he walked into the room. He placed the bowl on the table and sat next his friend on the couch.

Scott pressed play on the remote control.

“So how’s Derek?” Stiles asked nonchalantly, throwing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. At Scott’s shocked face, he went on. “Isn’t he the one you were just talking to? My bad.”

“Stiles…”

“Spare me the details. It seems I can’t trust anyone,” Stiles mumbled, keeping his eyes on the TV screen. His vision got blurred by anger tears. “You know what? I’m going home.”

“Buddy, I’m sorry. Derek called me. He’s really worried about you.”

“Whatever.” Stiles went to grab the backpack his dad had brought him on Monday. He had a few spare clothes in there, for which he was grateful. “It’s not really your fault, Scott. I’m just mad at Derek right now. I doubt I’ll ever forgive him.”

He got behind the wheel of his Jeep and pulled out slowly. As he drove, Stiles thought of his dreams. In the past few nights, his dreams had been plagued by the dark, lifeless forest, and shadows approaching him from all sides.

On his way home, Stiles got an insane desire to adventure into the woods. He’d sworn himself off to never go into the preserve without Derek by his side, but the pull was too strong.

The Nemeton was calling for him.

~#~

“All I’m telling you is that whatever fissure happened in your relationship is affecting the balance in this town.”

“Alan, that’s absurd!” Derek paced around the table in the exam room at the animal clinic. “Stiles is just a human.”

“Derek, a simple human being wouldn’t have been able to see the dreams you shared with him. Stiles accepted the reality of your nature too easily. He might not be aware of this, but he is a natural at it.”

“Are you going to explain yourself? For being my emissary, you sure love to confuse me by talking in riddles.”

Alan walked to Derek’s side, touching his forearm. “Stiles shares a deeper connection with you. I’m going to go as far as to say that you’ve found your mate in him.” Alan gripped Derek’s arm tighter when Derek scoffed. “Your little quarrel has affected the positive balance I’ve been telling you about.”

“Let’s say I accept your silly thought. What’s the outcome?”

“Chaos. Do you know what a kitsune is?”

“My mother told me about the foxes. I had no idea one lived in town.”

“She recently moved here. She sensed the negative waves coming from the Nemeton and visited me. She asked for my approval to bring dark warriors to protect the town.”

Derek blinked. “Dark warriors?” He could clearly remember the stories his mother used to tell him about foxes. “You mean the Oni?”

“I see Talia told you about those old tales. The kitsune – Kira – told me that the moment she feels a threat ready to strike the town, she’s going to use one of her tails to bring the Oni to protect the town.”

“It’s MY town. I get a choice in this,” Derek said, growling from deep in his chest. “Where does she live? I have to pay her a visit.”

“If you think that’s a good idea…” Alan wrote down Kira’s address. “Please don’t try to send her away or threaten her. She means well.”

Derek rolled his eyes, snatched the paper from Alan and left.

The residence housing the kitsune was a block away from Scott’s house. To his relief, Derek could see Stiles’s Jeep still parked in the driveway. He went as far as to call Scott and make sure Stiles was indeed in the house.

He rang the doorbell to the kitsune’s house.

The door was opened by a young woman dressed in jeans and a band t-shirt. She smiled brightly, inviting him inside.

“Hello! I’m Derek Hale. We have a common friend – Dr. Alan Deaton.”

“Hello, Derek. I was expecting you. My name is Kira Yukimura.”

The girl looked barely twenty years old, but Derek presumed she was much older than she showed, just like him.

She led him to the living room and offered him tea.

“Alan told me that you felt a shift in the balance of the town,” Derek said, not ready to play any social games.

“The tragedy that struck Beacon Hills has brought only negative events to this town. Ever since your mom perished in the fire, there has been no one to keep it alive and maintain the balance. The bond you created with that boy helped, but if it’s true what Dr. Deaton told me, you know what you have to do,” Kira said softly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is he your mate?”

“I don’t find that relevant. Stiles is human.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re stronger together.”

“Well, we’re no longer together,” Derek spat. “Now, tell me about your stupid decision to bring the Oni.”

“I’ve visited the Nemeton for three days. The first weak soul to adventure into the woods would fall victim to its dark energy. There are fireflies around the stump.”

“I don’t understand. First of all, I remember the Nemeton as a big, beautiful tree. I know it’s a stump now.”

“Yes, it was cut down. Alan told me that the police and firemen cut it shortly after the fire at your house. They found the tree was rotting from the inside. To cut down the Nemeton – the center of the world – is bound to bring severe problems like fires, plagues, strife, death, and destruction of all kinds.”

As Kira spoke, Derek could clearly remember some cases Noah had brought home over the years that he hadn’t been able to solve. Thinking back, they obviously had supernatural causes.

“Why do you say that the first weak soul to find the Nemeton would be possessed? Humans don’t adventure so far into the woods.”

Kira smirked. “One of them will be drawn there. The Nemeton has this power. And we shouldn’t care who that human is now, because he or she won’t be the same person after they become possessed.”

“How can you be so sure this will happen?”

“Because it happened before,” she said simply. “This person will become a dark kitsune, also known as a Nogitsune.”

Derek shook his head. He was done with listening to such absurd stories. He couldn’t believe that a human could be possessed by a dark spirit, and then that human would bring so much chaos and strife in his wake.

“You’d better make up with your boyfriend, Derek. Only together can you save this town.”

Derek spared Kira one more incredulous look before he hurried to his car.

It had started raining. The storm had been brewing for days, but it only descended upon them while Derek had been at Kira’s.

On his was back, he noticed Stiles’s Jeep was missing from Scott’s driveway.

His phone rang from the passenger seat where he’d forgotten it after his visit at Alan’s.

“Noah?” Derek answered, curious as to why the sheriff was calling him.

Derek could still remember the awkward conversation he had had with the man about what Stiles had revealed regarding his true nature. Thankfully, as it turned out, Noah had been as receptive to weird stuff as his son.

“Derek! I’ve been calling for hours!”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I left my phone in the car while running some errands.”

“Scott called me earlier to tell me that he and Stiles had had a little fight over you checking in on him, then Scott thought of following Stiles home. It turns out Stiles pulled off on the side of the road and went into the woods.”

Derek pulled the car onto the shoulder and hit the hazard lights. He could feel his hands shaking.

“Did Scott follow him?”

“No, but he called me immediately. We’ve formed a search party and I figured you’d like to join us,” Noah said, sounding tired. “I have no idea what’s so fascinating for my son to get lost in the woods when it’s pouring down rain.”

“Sir, if I beg you to stand down, will you listen to me? It might have to do with what we talked about,” Derek said quietly.

“You mean the werewolf stuff?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s a long story, but I can find Stiles on my own.”

They wrapped up the conversation with Noah promising to not send anyone into the woods. Derek hated lying to Noah, but he knew if he told him the whole truth, he would demand that he accompany him knowing his son was in danger.

As Derek wandered into the forest, Kira’s words rang loudly in his head.

_The first weak soul to adventure into the_ _woods will_ _fall victim to its dark energy._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still being interesting in the story!


	20. Chapter 20

 

 

“So you and my son?” Noah inquired.

He’d rested for several hours, but the idea of Derek Hale in his house, and the conversation they needed to have, was looming like an ugly cloud above him.

He’d found Derek downstairs.

Noah joined him on the sofa and began talking the second he sat down. The curiosity was getting the best of him.

Derek turned to face him, gulping visibly. “Yes, sir.”

“Do I want to know? You’ve known each other for such a short time. My son has never shown signs of being gay.”

“I have to tell you something else first. It has to do with what Stiles said before leaving.”

“The werewolf thing? I figured he’s just creative with his insults,” Noah reasoned with a shrug. There was no such thing as werewolves. It was something out of horror movies.

Derek nodded slowly. “Exactly.” He clasped his hands, letting his elbows rest on his thighs. “This town has seen a lot of supernatural stuff over the centuries. The locals mostly ignore things when something they can’t explain happens. The old sheriff tried solving odd cases, then marked them as cold and pushed them down into the archives.”

“I’m trying to follow,” Noah said when Derek paused.

“My family was the pack who kept the balance in this town. There is an old oak tree in the forest. It can be found if it wants to be found. We call it the Nemeton. It’s the center of the world and feeds off the energy surrounding it.” Derek wiped his palms on his thighs. “When my pack… my family… was murdered in cold blood, there was a shift in the energy. Then some heartless people found the tree and cut it down, deciding it was rotting. The bad energy multiplied.”

“You do realize that all this sounds insane, right?”

“Sir, please keep an open mind.” Derek scratched at his jaw. “My family was the only pack who lived in California. Our family was the oldest pack of born-wolves. There are more and more bitten werewolves out there.”

“You expect me to believe this?” Noah remarked incredulously. “I might consider believing it if I saw proof.”

“But you have,” Derek said softly. “I’ve lived here under your roof until… I foolishly got scared by Stiles’s discovery. He’d found out who I am.”

“Wolfie?” Noah asked, bewildered.

“Yes, Sir. After the fire at my house, I inherited my mother’s power. She was the Alpha of the pack. I became the Alpha, and the surge of power was so strong that I full-shifted into a wolf. Werewolves usually can partially shift. Turning into a real wolf is rare.”

Noah tried to wrap his head around what Derek was saying, but it was difficult. It all sounded insane.

“Please, don’t be afraid, or shoot at me. I’m going to show you.”

Derek’s face morphed into something uncommon. His features got sharper, his beard grew thicker, and his eyes bled red. There were fangs visible behind his curled lips and he had claws.

“This is what we call the Beta shift,” Derek explained, slurring the words through his fangs. “And this is my Alpha form – which you know.” He stood up, taking his shirt and pants off. Noah was about stop him, unsure what he was about to do, when suddenly there was a blur of motion in front of the couch.

Wolfie was looking at him with cautious eyes.

Noah understood in that moment why Wolfie appeared to be so wise and interested in various things that wouldn’t hold a normal dog’s attention for more than a moment.

He decided to accept the reality, because if he tried analyzing it for too long or in depth, he’d end up in the madhouse.

Noah shook his head. “I still don’t want to believe it.” He brushed his hand through his hair and sighed. “But...I can’t deny what I’m seeing.”

Derek picked up his clothes in his muzzle and went to the kitchen. He returned a minute later, his ears red.

“When we shift back, we’re naked,” he explained. “Now you understand how I’ve grown close to Stiles for years now. When he figured out what I was, it scared the crap out of me. Uh, sorry.”

Noah waved him off. “It’s understandable.”

“So I left. I didn’t expect Stiles to come looking for me – not so insistently.”

“Then you don’t know my son at all,” Noah joked.

“Yeah, I should have expected it,” Derek concurred with a nod. “We talked about everything at the hospital. Then I don’t know how things escalated so fast, but we couldn’t deny that we were attracted to each other.”

“Thank you, Derek. I appreciate your honesty.” Noah touched Derek’s arm. “As much as I’m still spooked by the whole werewolf thing, it makes sense.”

“And now Stiles hates me,” Derek added after a long pause.

“He’ll come around. Just don’t push him.”

“I hope so, Sir. Thank you for understanding. I’m sorry for keeping such a secret from you.”

Noah stood up, pointing a finger at Derek. “Werewolf or not, I’ll find a way to hurt you if you hurt my son.”

Derek nodded solemnly.

~#~

Stiles hated his luck. Every time he decided to explore the forest, a storm ruined his good time.

He was sitting on the Nemeton stump, not understanding the big deal his dreams made of it. To him, it was just another tree stump.

The only peculiar thing were the fireflies around it. The pesky things were there even during the heavy rain.

He pulled off one of his shoes, pouring water out of it and cursing his bad luck.

While he was busy pouring water out of his other shoe, a sudden chill ran down his spine.

The fireflies were no longer flying aimlessly. They hovered at even intervals between the trees surrounding the Nemeton clearing. They made the shadows look like they had eyes.

One lone firefly flew out of one of the stump’s crevices and Stiles grabbed it in his fist. When he opened his palm, a dark smoke wafted into the air, then it was gone.

He felt calm and in control, unlike he’d felt a minute ago with his heart was beating out of his chest and he was on the edge of a panic attack.

Stiles bent to ties his shoelaces and straightened up in time to see Derek emerging from where he’d seen the shadows with burning eyes earlier.

A part of him knew that he should be mad at Derek, but another part of him pushed him into his arms.

Derek hugged him tightly, apologizing. Stiles clung to him, mumbling that he was scared and that he wanted Derek by his side.

As they walked to Derek’s car, Stiles tried reasoning with himself. Why was there a dominant part of his brain telling him to be close to Derek and acting all clingy, when in reality Stiles hadn’t forgiven Derek for the betrayal?

Derek’s Camaro was not that far away from Roscoe.

Stiles opened his mouth to say he could drive himself, but what came out of his mouth surprised him. “Please drive me home. I’m so scared, Derek.” His voice was steady.

“Of course, Stiles. Let me call your dad to come get your car, okay?”

Stiles nodded and slid into the passenger seat of Derek’s car. He leaned back into the headrest and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired.

 _We’re going to have so much fun together_ , an unknown voice said in his head.

 _Who? What is…?_ Stiles blinked his eyes open.

There was darkness, but it felt like he was back in the woods.

_You’ll get to know me in time._

_Who are you? Leave me alone!_

_We are one now._

Stiles gasped awake, propelling himself forward. He was restricted by the seat belt as he choked out a sob.

“You’re safe. I’m taking you home.” Derek rubbed his back, probably thinking Stiles had a bad dream.

Stiles turned to look at Derek, hoping the man would see the terror in his eyes, but Stiles felt like he had no control of himself anymore.

 _What’s happening to me?_ He idly wondered, shuddering.

~#~

Stiles was pretty shaken, but Derek figured nothing terrible had happened. He tried not to think of his sheer panic when he’d found Stiles sitting on the Nemeton’s stump.

If Kira was right, Derek would know. He could smell the change, or so he believed.

Stiles had begged his dad to allow Derek to spend the night, and by some miracle Noah had agreed. He’d probably seen how scared his son was.

Ever since Derek had told Noah about the supernatural and explained that he was a werewolf, the sheriff looked at him in a new light. He trusted him on a whole new level, which was something Derek hadn’t expected.

Derek only had to promise that he’d stay on the couch and would under no circumstances join Stiles in his bed.

They were watching one of Stiles’s favorite comedies, but the boy hadn’t laughed once since the movie had started.

In the darkness of the room, Derek peered down at Stiles who was snuggled into his side. Stiles was staring transfixed at the TV screen, not blinking. He hadn’t moved once since they had sat down, which was unusual for him.

Derek rubbed a hand over Stiles’s arm, making him jerk out of his trance. His brown eyes snapped to Derek’s face, his heart beating wildly.

“Are you okay?” Derek whispered.

“I’m tired, I guess.” Stiles shifted until his face was pressed into Derek’s chest and one of his legs was over Derek’s lap.

Not long after Stiles passed out, Derek felt him jerking and mumbling nonsense.

He’d been around Stiles having nightmare for years, but this one didn’t look like a regular nightmare.

Stiles thrashed his head from side to side, his mumbling getting louder. He repeated that he didn’t know and that he wanted to be left alone.

Derek wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly, hoping it would take the bad dreams away. He refused to acknowledge that Kira could be right.

He’d have to introduce Stiles to her in order to see if something had changed during Stiles’s trip into the woods. Derek couldn’t tell if anything had happened, because there were no visible change in Stiles.

~#~

Over the next few days, Derek watched Stiles carefully.

There were times where he was so calm and so still that it startled Derek. But at other times, Stiles appeared more aggressive, and his short temper was unleashed on anyone around him, from his dad to Scott to the delivery guy and even to Derek. What shocked Derek the most was how satisfied Stiles looked when such situations escalated, resulting in the person he’d engaged in an argument with losing their cool. Stiles had gone so far as to stop Derek when they were walking to his loft earlier that afternoon in order to stare raptly at two pre-teens fighting over whose turn it was to use a skateboard.

~#~

Stiles sat on the leather couch in Derek’s loft. His fingers dug in the underside of the cushion he was sitting on, and he kept his eyes squeezed shut.

 _Just leave me alone!_ He shouted inside his head.

He was tired. He couldn’t rest because his dreams were plagued by the most bone-chilling voice he’d ever heard. The voice told him to do things he had strong beliefs against – like taking a knife and running it through the closest neighbor’s tires. When Stiles had awakened afterward, he’d heard that neighbor had been involved in an accident due to his tires being sliced. Stiles had felt drawn to appear at the scene in an attempt to confess what he had done, but the thing possessing him would absorb all the pain surrounding the accident and somehow prevent him from revealing his part in what had happened. He enjoyed seeing others hurt.

And that was a small part of what was happening to him.

The voice loved riddles. Every time Stiles had a wrong answer, the voice made him do something terrible again.

Stiles had lost the concept of time. He couldn't remember the last time he’d slept. His dreams were real, because it was he doing all the horrible things that were showing up on his father’s desk.

Causing small accidents.

Provoking dogs to maul their owners.

Irking friends so much they turned against each other.

Unscrewing bolts so skateboards would lose wheels, causing the children riding them to severely injure themselves.

Stiles became to fear the riddles.

It had taken a child to crack his head open to make him figure out what the first riddle meant.

_What is bigger the more you take away?_

Stiles had woken up in the middle of the road, holding the injured child, screaming the answer – _a hole_. With shaky fingers, he’d called his dad and told him there was no time to explain, but he’d found a young boy badly hurt.

Now, as he sat on the couch in Derek’s loft, with Derek working on a snack in the kitchen, the voice returned.

_What gets wetter the more it dries?_

Also, Stiles had learned his lesson about not asking for the answer. The last time it happened, he’d caused Jackson (who he hated) and Danny (who was a good guy) to start fighting.

“Water?” He mumbled to himself.

A sadistic laugh echoed through his head. Stiles leaned forward, gripping his hair and rocking to and fro.

“Leave me alone,” he moaned.

“Stiles?” Derek’s concerned voice came from above him.

He looked up with pleading eyes, but he’d found out that what he wanted to show and what the thing possessing him showed on his face were two completely different things.

“It was a fly,” Stiles found himself saying. The thing was taking over, and all he wanted was to punch himself, stab himself, make himself stay away from Derek.

As mad as he’d been at Derek for telling Dad about his panic attacks, Stiles never wanted to hurt Derek. The man didn’t deserve such pain in his life after what he’d been through.

Derek smirked, ruffling Stiles’s hair. “Silly boy.”

They picked at the snack Derek had made, while they talked about their day.

Stiles had no idea if he had the power to say the wrong thing or signal for help in some way, because whatever the thing possessing him was doing or saying, Derek ate it up.

 _Only good things await us, Stiles, if you let me lead. See?_ The thing taunted him while Derek was kissing him.

Stiles moaned in protest, but Derek took it as encouragement. His calloused fingers went under Stiles’s shirt. Stiles’s brain short-circuited.

They’d never done anything like that.

“Is this okay?” Derek checked.

Stiles opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then, without his own volition, he was straddling Derek's lap and they were kissing desperately.

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut as his fingers gripped Derek’s hair.

 _I hate you so much!_ He yelled at the thing inside his head.

If Derek took the next step with Stiles in that condition, Stiles had no idea how he’d react.

_Maybe our little werewolf friend is into breath play? Let’s find out._

Stiles heard Derek gasping for air. His eyes widened when he noticed his fingers were wrapped tightly around Derek’s windpipes. Try as he might, he couldn’t loosen the grip.

Derek’s gray eyes stared at him in shock as his hands tried to pry Stiles’s fingers away from his throat. Because of the thing possessing him, Stiles’s strength rivaled Derek’s.

_What gets wetter the more it dries?_

Stiles watched Derek’s face turning purple and his eyes clouding.

 _Think, Stiles_ , he urged himself. He wished an unknown force would cut his arms off so he’d stop hurting Derek.

_What gets wet, that can also dry something?_

_Skin?_ He asked the thing inside him.

Derek made a gurgling sound.

“No, no, no. Please,” Stiles begged, tears welling up in his eyes. “STOP! I don’t know!”

 _What gets wetter the more it dries?_ The voice yelled.

Stiles sniffed, not looking away from Derek’s hazy eyes.

Then the answer popped in his head. He’d been stupid to not think of it earlier.

“A towel. A towel gets wetter the more it dries,” he babbled.

His hands fell limply to his sides.

Everything was quiet for a long time.

Stiles scrambled up and as far away from Derek as possible. He found himself in the kitchen. His eyes landed on a large knife.

He snatched it from the counter.

“Stiles, what’s going on?” Derek’s rough voice asked urgently. “Put the knife down.”

“Kill me, or I’ll kill myself!”

“What? Stiles. Be reasonable.”

“I almost killed you with my bare hands! How can you stand there and be so calm?” Stiles wailed, turning the knife’s tip toward his stomach.

Derek was by his side in a flash. The knife clattered to the ground.

“I know it wasn’t you,” Derek whispered. “And I’m sorry I didn’t see it earlier.”

Stiles’s eyes met Derek’s. “You know? How? Oh, God! Please tell me you can help me get rid of this thing inside of me!”

“I might know someone who can help.” Derek enveloped him in his arms. “For now, you’re safe.”

“How do you know?” Stiles pressed his cheek to Derek’s chest. He could hear the rumble of a growl forming deep within.

“Foxes are afraid of wolves,” Derek said through his dropped fangs. “If keeping you safe until we meet the person who can help means staying in my Beta form, then that is what I’ll do,” he vowed protectively.

“Or you could stay in your Alpha form?” Stiles tilted his head back to look at Derek’s face. His eyes were red, his thick eyebrows were gone, replaced by a prominent forehead, his beard thickened, and there were pointy ears. “I’ll never understand what happens to your eyebrows.”

Derek glared down at him, steering him into the bedroom with his hands on Stiles’s shoulders.

“Call your dad. Tell him you’re spending the night at my place.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“Lie about whatever comes to mind. You’ve lied to him about spending the night here before; you sure can do it one more time.”

  



	21. Chapter 21

 

 

Kira loved a cloudy morning and the smell of rain. She figured her attraction to such weather was due to her type of fox. She was a thunder kitsune; one who could manipulate electrical power.

When Alan Deaton had contacted her about unusual energy surrounding the Nemeton, she hadn’t imagined she’d find it in such a deplorable state.

The last time she’d seen the tree, it had been a majestic oak tree. When she’d left the town back in the late forties, Kira never expected to return.

The bad energy around the stump, and the devastation brought to the tree and its protectors, had caused a severe imbalance. That – combined with the fireflies buried under the roots – brought to life Kira’s worst fear.

She’d called for this dark spirit’s help during the war, but after seeing first hand what he could do, she destroyed it with a werewolf’s help.

Working with werewolves wasn’t her forte, but Deaton had vouched for Derek Hale. He wouldn’t turn on her.

Their problem was obvious. The human boy had been attracted by the Nemeton, especially because of his connection with Derek and his weak state of mind.

Kira sipped from her coffee, looking out her kitchen window.

Derek would be bringing the boy any moment, and she’d assess the damage.

The solution was simple – separate the Nogitsune from the boy, then destroy the dark spirit the same way she had done half a century ago.

The previous night she’d went so far as to summon the Oni army for help. The dark warriors would try attacking the boy, but Kira had total control over them. She’d use them to keep him trapped somewhere safe until she and Deaton figured out how to separate him from the spirit inside him.

When Derek arrived with the boy, Kira opened the door and stepped aside.

“Good morning,” Derek said curtly.

“Morning!” Kira nodded, keeping her eyes on the teenager. His shoulders were slumped like he carried the weight of the world on them. “You must be Stiles.” She smiled at him.

Stiles lifted his head, and Kira recoiled. His brown eyes were sunken in, and there were dark circles around them. The fox was sucking out all his energy.

Stiles cringed, shaking his head vigorously. His fist tightened around the back of Derek’s leather jacket.

“It will be okay. Kira can help us.” Derek reassured him soothingly, urging him inside the house.

Stiles shuffled closer to Kira, then stopped. He looked around, his wide eyes taking everything in until they focused on her. There was raw panic in his eyes, and for the first time in her life, Kira understood the saying about eyes being a mirror for the soul. She could see right into Stiles. The boy was terrified.

“It’s going to take time, but I’ll make you better.”

Stiles moved his hands in front of him, forming the universal sign language for help.

Derek frowned at the gesture, but Kira wrapped an arm around Stiles’s shoulders. She led him to the couch.

“I hope you have a plan,” Derek muttered, sitting on the far end of the couch, his linked hands between his open legs.

“I know everything that’s happened, but I want to reach out to him. I want some answers.”

Derek stiffened. “You plan on bringing that monster to the surface?”

“The plan is to find a way to separate them. It can be done, but Stiles has to be strong enough to push him out.” Kira took Stiles’s hands, looking into his eyes.

“Your plan will never work,” Stiles said in a voice that sent chills down Kira’s spine. “We are stronger than that. Your silly mind games won’t be able to pry us apart.”

Kira shot Derek a hard look, hoping he got the idea that she’d be doing the talking.

“Is there a particular reason why you returned after so many years?”

Stiles’s lips curled up in a sadistic smile. “Chaos has called me.”

“I see your point. Beacon Hills has seen better days, but there was no need for such a drastic move.”

“Stiles has a lot of potential. We can do wonderful things together.”

“I’m so done listening to this shit!” Derek snarled, sitting up and grabbing Stiles by the scruff. “Leave him alone!” He turned to Kira, his eyes burning red. “What’s the other way to separate them?”

“It’s dangerous. You’ll have to get in his head. Have you tried anything like that before?”

“ _How_ dangerous?” Derek challenged her.

“Very. You could damage his nervous system, paralyze him, kill him even.”

“Damn it!” Derek spat. “WHY?” He shouted at Stiles, shaking him.

Stiles bared his neck, cowering under Derek’s assault. His arms were covering his head. “Stop! Derek. It’s me, I swear.”

Derek dropped his hands, kneeling between Stiles’s legs. “You have to fight it, Stiles.”

Stiles kept his hands over his face. “I can’t,” he sobbed.

“Shh. I promise to save you,” Derek vowed, reaching to hug him.

Kira noticed the look in Stiles’s eyes when he lowered his hands. Her arm shot between Derek and Stiles.

“You might fool a wolf, but you can’t fool another fox,” she said smugly.

The door of her house opened to reveal Dr. Deaton.

Kira sighed in relief. “Right on time. Derek, help me hold him down.”

On autopilot, Derek did as told, still shocked at how Stiles had fooled him.

“No. What is going on?” Stiles thrashed between them. His eyes widened when he saw the syringe in Deaton’s hand. “Derek, he’s going to hurt me. Derek, please.” Tears spilled from his eyes. “DEREK!”

Deaton stuck the needle into Stiles’s neck. The boy’s body became lax within seconds. Only his eyes moved, showing pure hatred.

“What did you do to him?” Derek asked, worried. “And what the hell are you doing here?”

“Kira figured she might need my assistance, so here I am. And to answer your first question, I used Letharia Vulpina, or wolf lichen. It’s toxic to foxes.”

“Is it going to kill the thing possessing him?” Derek demanded.

“Sadly no, but it will render it incapable of controlling Stiles. Before you ask, I don’t know exactly how long it will last. But he should be safe until nightfall.”

“What happens at nightfall?”

“The Oni will come,” Kira explained.

Derek shifted into his beta form and roared into her face. “If that’s your way of dealing with this situation, then I’m taking Stiles right now! We’ll figure out another way.”

“They won’t hurt him. Not as long as I control them, and trust me, I have total control over them.”

~#~

Stiles wished everyone would stop making plans around him. Despite what Dr. Deaton had said, the spirit inside him wasn’t dormant. He couldn’t control Stiles’s body anymore, but it was aware of every detail of the plan.

Stiles thought frantically of a solution.

When Kira kept talking about finding a safe place for him, Stiles found the answer.

He squirmed in Derek’s arms, turning to face the others. They all watched him apprehensively.

“Lock me up in Eichen House.”

Loud arguments exploded around him, but he stood up on shaky legs.

“Look, it’s the best we’ve got. They’ll strap me down to a bed, maybe put me in a straitjacket. You can send your warriors or whatever you’re calling them. I’ll be safe there, and most importantly, everyone else will be safe!”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Dr. Deaton acknowledged.

“One of us has to stay with you,” Kira insisted.

“What are we going to tell your dad? For such an important step, we need to go the usual route. Since you’re a minor, your parent or guardian has to sign your papers.” Derek took his hand. “Please, think it through.”

“Leave Dad to me. He already knows about you. What’s a little more weird stuff?”

They left Kira and Dr. Deaton to work on a plan to separate the Nogitsune from him. The thing inside him had a name. Dr. Deaton had also called it Void on a few occasions.

During the car ride to the police station, Derek held his hand. Stiles squeezed it tightly.

When they parked in front of the building, neither of them moved to get out of the car.

“I’m so sorry about last night,” Stiles whispered. He could feel his eyes welling up with tears. “I almost killed you. I don’t have control over my body or mind.”

“Even if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to fight until I know that thing is separated from you and destroyed.”

“Don’t say such a thing!” Stiles rubbed at his eyes. They were burning. “If I hurt anyone else, you’re allowed to kill me. Don’t look at me like that, Derek. It won’t be me doing it. You’ll be doing everyone a huge favor.”

Derek pulled Stiles closer over the console. “Let’s take this a step at a time.”

“We don’t HAVE time! Sunset is in two hours. We lost the whole day fighting.” Stiles stopped himself before he could tell Derek that Void knew about the plans. “I’m going in alone. This is between my dad and me.” Stiles searched Derek’s eyes for any uncertainty, then he kissed him on the lips. He stayed there for a while, then pulled away an inch. “I love you.”

His stomach tightened at the sound of the words he’d uttered. People usually said them when they knew there was no escape out of the situation they were throwing themselves into.

Derek’s eyes stayed on his, unblinking. “You’re going to tell me that again when all this is over.”

The knot in Stiles’s throat choked him.

After another short kiss, he walked on jelly legs into the police station.

_When is a door not a door?_

The creepy voice made Stiles freeze. He wrapped his arms around himself, hurrying to his dad’s office.

~#~

Noah stared incredulously at his son.

There were a lot of things he’d never expected to hear from Stiles, but he’d grown to understand and accept them.

Stiles’s crazy sandwiches. They consisted of a slice of bread, butter, salty cheese, and strawberry jam. They had been his favorite snack since he’d been a kid.

Stiles’s bizarre love for wolves.

Stiles adventuring into the woods and being rescued by a dog who became their pet. And recently Noah finding out the dog was actually a wolf, who was a man.

Which led to finding out about Derek Hale and his werewolf nature. Even though he’d seen him transformed, Noah still had a hard time understanding that a mythical creature existed.

And lastly, Stiles being gay. Noah hadn’t expected it, but when he’d been confronted with the situation, he’d vowed not to be one of those homophobic parents.

His problem with Stiles being gay was different than other parents’. His son was dating a werewolf. There were no pamphlets to prepare him for that.

But Noah was an open person. He was willing to learn and be there for his son.

The strangest thing to date, though, was Stiles telling him he wanted to be locked up in the mental institution, Eichen House. What scared him was the fact that Stiles was deadly serious when he said it.

Stiles went into a mind-boggling explanation about foxes and dark spirits and a tree in the woods. He kept saying that he was weak and that he didn’t want to hurt anyone else.

Noah told him he had to find the number for Eichen House and see how it worked, and he’d be back shortly. Stiles had never looked so relieved as in that moment.

Noah left him on the couch in his office.

He went outside to make a phone call, but was surprised to see the person he wanted to call already there. Derek was leaning against the hood of his Camaro, looking toward the window of the sheriff’s office.

“Derek! I was about to call you,” Noah said, approaching him.

“Sir.” Derek nodded gravely. “Everything Stiles told you is the truth.”

“I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this.”

“Believe me, so do I. To sum it up, since my family died there has been no one left to protect the town. Some people took down the Nemeton – the tree that is a sacred place. Cutting it down has brought only terrible accidents to this town, some caused by supernatural elements.”

Noah remembered some crazy cold cases he’d read from the past, and some recent events as well.

“Deaton thinks the Nemeton, which has been dormant for decades, gained power when I was in high school. I won’t go into details now, but the death of my girlfriend back then awakened it.” Derek shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “An old friend of Alan’s was brought to town to help with the situation. Both Alan and I have been monitoring the tree, but we never expected something like this.”

“And this friend of yours…”

“She’s a kitsune. That means fox in Japanese. She ages differently, just like werewolves, though her tails keep her young and beautiful.”

Noah knuckled his forehead. “Can we skip to the point? How in the hell did a firefly turn into a dark spirit and possess my son?”

“What I was telling you about Kira made sense. She’s been around since before World War II. She’d summoned a dark spirit to save the prisoners from Oak Creek. She had no idea what she’d done until she saw the destruction and chaos it created.” Derek moved his eyes to the window of the sheriff’s office. Stiles was staring at them as if in a trance. “She sacrificed one of her tails to bring dark warriors – the Oni. They helped destroy the Nogitsune.”

“Nog… what?”

“The dark spirit inside Stiles. Nogitsune means dark kitsune. She promised me the Oni will protect Stiles, but they may be unpredictable. The Oni are neither good nor evil. They are simply given a task and will let nothing stop them in the pursuit of that task. They kill anyone who opposes them.”

Noah shivered violently. He couldn’t lose his son. “And I have to agree to his crazy idea to keep him safe?”

“Yes, sir. It might be necessary to tell a nurse to use a straitjacket, strap him to the bed, lock the doors, and keep guards nearby. The spirit is stronger than anything I’ve seen before.”

“You’re talking about my son!”

Derek looked him in the eyes. “That thing possessing him is not your son. Trust me. I’ve stared into his eyes. They’re empty and lifeless. All they want is to inflict pain. The Nogitsune feeds off pain, strife, chaos.”

Noah knew this was going to be the toughest decision he’d make in his life. The cop in him cataloged all the recent cases, noting that they all contained abnormal situations that caused pain and strife. The father in him was torn at the idea of locking his son into a mental institution.

For the first time in years, he wished Claudia was still alive. She’d know what to do. She’d always known Stiles better.

He shook his head. If she were still alive, they wouldn’t even be in Beacon Hills.

“Thank you, Derek. I need to do this on my own. Please meet me back at the house at seven.”

“One more thing. Oni come after sunset. You have less than half an hour to take Stiles to safety.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many of you loved Void Stiles?


	22. Chapter 22

 

Stiles had no idea what Derek had told his dad, but he’d convinced him to take him to Eichen House.

Stiles listened dutifully to the rules the attendant told him: no phone calls, emails, or visitors allowed in the first 72 hours. Then she told him about the process: a physical, meeting with a psychologist, and group therapy.

While his dad grew more agitated and tried to talk him out of it, Stiles agreed to everything. He was supposed to be the scared one, but he was unusually calm and collected. He patted his father on the shoulder, insisting that he’d be fine.

Right when Stiles thought his Dad had relaxed, he went into a frenzy over forgetting Stiles’s pillow.

Stiles’s stomach sank. He wouldn’t sleep one wink, despite his bravado in front of his dad and the attendant. He’d almost believed himself when he’d said that he hadn’t slept well in weeks and he was exhausted. It was the truth. But without his pillow, he wouldn’t even be able to lie down on the bed.

Stiles sat on the edge of his new bed while a big guy checked the straps attached to it. His father had made the attendant promise only to use the straitjacket as a last resort.

The big guy gestured for Stiles to lie down, then strapped his wrists and ankles. He checked how tight they were wrapped against his skin and winced in pain.

A nurse came with a needle, and Stiles’s eyes widened. He could remember clearly that Kira said the Nogitsune had better control of him while he slept.

“I don’t need that,” Stiles whimpered, squirming, but the restraints kept him in place.

“Of course you don’t,” she cooed at him, then stuck the needle into his arm.

“No! You don’t understand…”

Blackness engulfed him.

~#~

Then he opened his eyes and gasped. He had no idea if it was reality or a dream, but he was in the boiler room of Eichen House. He was in front of a wall where a weird sign was scribbled. It looked like a number five, but not quite.

“When is a door not a door?”

The gritty voice asked from somewhere behind him.

Stiles plastered his back to the wall, shaking from head to toe.

_Void was no longer in his head? What changed?_

It had been asking that ever since he’d stepped into the police station.

Stiles slid down the wall, wrapping his arms around his drawn-up knees. “I don’t know.”

His blood froze in his veins when he saw a bandaged hand coming from behind a boiler.

“Stiles, you’re so smart. You surely can figure it out.”

“I don’t know,” he wailed, covering his head. “Go away!”

“We are one.”

“Stop saying that!”

“When is a door not a door?”

Stiles startled as the voice came from right in front of him. He recoiled at the thing before him. It looked like a mummy – bandaged face and hands, but wearing dress pants and a bomber jacket. His mouth had razor sharp teeth.

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, wondering how his mind could come up with such fucked up things. Nogitsune wasn’t real. It was a spirit.

“I am real, Stiles. We are real.”

“G-god. Please.” He shook in fright, but his mind raced to find an answer for the stupid riddle.

A door was not a door when it was open. He squinted at the thing before him. “When it’s ajar,” he whispered.

The smile on the thing’s face made all his hair stand up at the back of his neck.

When it moved closer, Stiles scurried away. He hid under the stairs, watching the Nogitsune ram his fists into the wall with the sign. It crumbled under the force of the blow.

He fought against his gag reflex when he saw a corpse there. It looked exactly like the Nogitsune.

“That was my body. But you’re a much better host.”

“So this is all in my head?” Stiles asked, scared.

He could visualize himself upstairs in his room still strapped to the bed, while he was also in the boiler room, living his nightmare.

“It’s anything you want it to be.” Nogitsune approached him. “I have one more question for you.”

“Why me?” Stiles pleaded.

“Because you have enough evil in you to keep me satisfied. You’re pained and tortured and misunderstood.”

Stiles sobbed. Trust his fucked up life to become his demise at the hands of a dark spirit.

“Everyone has it, but no one can lose it... What is it?”

“WHAT IS IT?” It yelled.

Stiles stared at the thing, his eyes wide and his mouth dry.

“What is it, Stiles?” The Nogitsune prodded.

_Shadow._

A loud noise made his ears hurt as he coiled up on the floor. Bright light glared down at him.

Then hands touched his shoulders, and he set himself in motion, kicking and screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Stiles, it’s me!” Derek’s urgent voice made him focus on the face in front of him.

Stiles gasped, looking around dazed. He couldn’t understand anything anymore.

He was in the middle of the road. Eichen House was visible behind him. Derek’s car was parked diagonally on the road, blocking traffic.

“Your dad got a call that you were missing from your room during the night rounds.”

“It was real.” Bile rose in Stiles’s throat. “He’s real.”

“Who’s real? What happened?”

“Where’s Dad?” Stiles sat up, clutching at Derek’s jacket.

“Explaining to the attendant that you walk in your sleep.” Derek helped him stand.

“In the basement – in the boiler room – there is a wall behind the stairs. If you break that wall, there is a corpse of a man. He’s bandaged and wearing military clothes. He might be the guy Kira told us about. There is a weird sign on the wall.”

Derek stared at him as if he were crazy, and in that moment Stiles didn’t judge him. He was losing his mind.

“I’m so scared, Derek.” Stiles froze when he saw the same shadows with fireflies for eyes at the edge of the woods; the same ones he’d seen around the Nemeton.

“They’re here. You’re safe,” Derek whispered. “The Oni will keep you safe.”

A small red car parked behind Derek’s Camaro. Kira rushed to their side.

While holding Stiles in his arms, Derek told Kira what Stiles had said about the basement.

“Sit tight in the car. I’ll be back.” Derek kissed the top of his head, disappearing toward the mental institution with Kira.

As he reached for the door handle, he stopped.

He reached into his hoodie’s pocket and came up with a blade. It was the tail Kira had kept in the book on her coffee table. Stiles praised himself for her not noticing him stealing it before he left.

The Oni stepped out of the shadows, circling him, their swords drawn.

The closer they got, the larger Stiles’s smile grew.

He heard Kira shouting and running back to him, but he paid her no mind.

“NO! Don’t touch him!” She shouted, then stopped near them. Her eyes were on the tail in Stiles’s hands.

He broke it in half, making her stare at him in horror. As on command, the Oni turned to her.

She ran to her car, barely avoiding the swords cutting the air around her.

Instead of leaving as Stiles had thought, she opened the passenger side window and shot him. The effect was similar with what had happened to him the previous morning, though he couldn’t move a muscle this time, either.

Then Kira got control over her army once again. Stiles had no idea what she’d done to bring them to her side. All he could see were the aluminum, crossed spoked wheels of Derek’s tires.

Derek and Dad stuffed him in the back of the Camaro, then they drove to Kira’s house.

“You think you won?” Stiles asked, laughing sardonically. “You can’t beat me at my own game.”

Dad turned to face him over the passenger seat. “Son, I don’t care if you’re possessed or not, but I’ll slap you.”

“You think a slap will scare me? Her fireflies don’t scare me. I just showed her I can control the situation if I want to.”

Derek popped the glove compartment and pointed to something.

When Stiles saw what his Dad had in his hands, he glared at Derek through the rearview mirror.

“Really, Derek? We can play kinky games later, big guy.”

Then Dad covered Stiles’s mouth with a piece of duct tape. It made him scream in rage.

~#~

Derek circled the couch in Kira’s house.

Stiles was slouched on it, still immobile from the shot of fox poison and kanima venom. The latter had paralyzed him. Deaton promised Stiles was completely safe, but they had to work fast and separate him from the Nogitsune.

Derek popped out his claws on his right hand and stopped walking when he got behind Stiles.

Noah arranged his son in a sitting position, keeping his hands on his shoulders.

“Don’t let his tears soften you,” Deaton warned them.

Stiles screamed behind the duct tape.

“Careful, Derek.” Deaton took Derek’s hand, placing his claws exactly where they would penetrate Stiles’s neck without damaging him for life. “Remember, he’s in there. Anything that helps to bring him to you helps. Anything.”

“I got it.” Derek rolled his eyes. He understood loud and clear what ‘anything’ meant.

Stiles was a tactile kind of guy, and Derek figured he’d have to touch him and kiss him to coax him out of his shield where the Nogitsune had him trapped.

The second his claws went into Stiles’s neck, a spark went down Derek’s spine.

He had no idea what to expect. Alan hadn’t been helpful in preparing him for this, because apparently these kinds of things were different for everyone.

The last thing Derek expected was to find himself in front of his burning house. He spun on his heel and dashed into the forest. Something told him that was the right decision. As he ran, the pull brought him closer to the Nemeton.

When he went past the trees into the clearing holding the Nemeton, he found himself under the tree. He was in the hidden place he’d taken Paige after Ennis bit her. He had blood on his hands when he looked down.

“No!” He fell to his knees, but the gesture brought him back to the edge of the clearing.

It was heavily raining.

Stiles was sitting cross-legged on the stump. Across from him was the Nogitsune. Between them was a board of the game GO.

Derek blinked in confusion. Stiles was into chess. Maybe the man formerly possessed by the Nogitsune liked GO. He’d seen the corpse in the basement of Eichen House, just like Stiles had told him.

“Stiles!” Derek called out, walking closer.

To his surprise, he wasn’t getting any closer. Stiles didn’t hear him, too focused on his next move.

After furtively calling his name several times and attempting to run closer until he was out of breath, Derek growled in frustration.

Then one of Stiles’s confessions came to his mind. They were a pack.

Derek remembered the first rule his mom had taught him when she’d allowed him in the woods on his own.

“ _How do wolves signal their location?” She’d asked gently._

“ _They howl,” Derek had mumbled._

“ _Good. Howl if you’re in trouble. I’ll know where to find you.”_

“They howl,” Derek repeated to himself, smiling at the nice memory.

The full shifting took him by surprise. He’d planned on going Beta shift only.

When he was on four paws, he tilted his head to the sky and howled. It was the same kind of anguished howl he’d cried most nights before he met Stiles.

Stiles looked toward him, and Derek howled again, telling him he was seeing right.

Then Stiles scrambled up, spreading GO pieces everywhere and making the Nogitsune cry in frustration. Stiles broke into a run to Derek.

Pain like nothing he’d ever experienced split his head, then his knees hit the hard floor in Kira’s living room.

Five Oni warriors were around the couch. Kira was hovering at one end of the furniture, Noah was sitting on the coffee table, his hands on Stiles’s knees, and Alan was by his side, checking his vitals.

Derek pushed him away, levering himself on the back of the couch. He stood up in time for Stiles to pull off his duct tape and gag loudly.

Noah moved out of the way, thinking he’d barf. Frankly, Derek thought the same.

But then something bizarre happened. Stiles slumped off the couch onto his hands and knees and pulled the white bandage out of his mouth that had been around the Nogitsune. With the bandage came a dark smoke.

When the nauseating scene was over, Stiles sagged against the couch.

“What just happened?” Alan asked, his eyes wide.

“I’ve no idea. I said I thought it would work,” Kira reminded him.

“Maybe that thing is there.” Noah kicked at the pile of bandages.

To everyone’s shock, a hand wrapped in a bandage came out of the pile, then another, and soon the Nogitsune was out.

Derek was the first to look away from the surreal scene. Stiles was no longer where he’d been. Two Oni warriors blocked his path at the front door.

His attention was drawn to the Nogitsune fighting to take the bandage off his face in frenetic movement. With Noah’s help, they were all rendered speechless.

Stiles’s brown eyes took them in, then froze on Derek. Tears sprung into his eyes.

“Enchanting scene. Really moving.” The Stiles by the door declared with a roll of his eyes. “Keep them away from me.” He pointed to the Oni warriors.

Kira took off her belt, which turned into a katana. “You’ve done enough destruction.”

“Put that away. Nothing can stop me. I’m a thousand years old! You can’t kill me!”

Stiles lifelessly tugged at Derek’s sleeve to make him lean closer. “Remember how Kira said they killed this thing the last time? It’s time to test the theory.”

The Stiles near the door smirked. “If you kill me, he dies.” He pointed to the real Stiles, pale and exhausted.

Derek advanced to the door and Kira followed him closely.

“It’s true, we can’t kill you,” he agreed.

“Let me go then.”

“But we can _change_ you,” Derek growled under his breath. He grabbed Void Stiles by the scruff, then sank his fangs into his shoulder. His dark eyes widened and he convulsed. Then Kira drew her katana over his midsection.

The body convulsed one more time, then fell to the floor where it cracked up until it was dust.

The Oni disappeared as if on command.

Derek stared blankly at the spot where the Stiles look alike had been. A firefly lifted from the dark dust, and Deaton caught it in a familiar looking jar. It was a box made of the Nemeton’s wood.

Derek could feel the tension leaving his body.

It was over.

“One of you call 9-1-1.” Noah’s desperate voice made Derek realize he’d thought it was over too soon. Stiles lay lifelessly across his dad’s lap.


	23. Chapter 23

 

 

Derek’s hands were touching places Stiles hadn’t dared imagined being touched by someone else.

Stiles threw his head back, moaning loudly.

Of course, he’d thought repeatedly of Derek’s hands touching his ass and balls and dick. What healthy teenager wouldn’t imagine their boyfriend’s hands on them?

But the thing was, Derek more than touched him. His mouth was on him, licking and sucking. It drove Stiles crazy. Then one hand lifted up and twisted one of Stiles’s nipples. He hadn’t touched his nipples before, and damn, they were sensitive as hell.

Then Derek’s mouth was on his and there was a sliver of tongue.

Stiles was sure he would die before he climaxed.

His eyes snapped open suddenly. His heart was galloping after the vivid sex dream.

There was an annoying beeping from his left.

Stiles blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the darkness in the room. The first thing he registered was that he wasn’t in his room. It looked vaguely familiar, and it took him a beat to figure out why.

Hospital.

As soon as the thought registered in his brain, his heart pumped even faster as questions exploded in his head.

Why was he in the hospital?

What had happened?

Was Nogitsune gone?

Was he safe?

Had anyone else died?

The door opened abruptly. In the hallway’s light, he could see Derek’s figure. His eyes were red when he stepped into the room, but the closer he got to the bed, the more they returned to their normal color. The light was flicked on, and Stiles winced, closing his eyes.

Derek sat next to him, taking his hand. “How are you feeling?”

Stiles relaxed at the feeling of Derek’s calloused hand in his. “I guess I’m okay. Nothing hurts.”

“Good. That’s good.” He nodded.

“So… what happened? Is the dark spirit gone?” It had to be, because Stiles didn’t feel it around, or inside his head anymore.

“You don’t remember?” Derek lifted a thick brow.

“Not really.”

“You reminded us of the way to kill it once we separated you. I bit it and Kira stabbed it with her sword.”

“Huh. Badass.” Stiles smiled, pulling Derek closer. “Is Dad around?”

“I convinced him to go home.” Derek frowned, tilting his head to the side. “Unbelievable. I heard your heart beating wildly from the waiting room. Then the light to your heart monitor flashed at the nurses’ station. None of them came to check on you!”

“Better,” Stiles mumbled, embarrassed. He wondered what it would take for Derek to smell his arousal? The werewolf must be pretty strung up with other thoughts to fail to notice such a potent scent.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Derek’s clouded eyes turned to him.

“Derek… Really, it’s fine.”

Before Stiles’s eyes, Derek stiffened. He studied Stiles’s face for a long time, then looked at his groin. The blanket was still tented.

“Now is the time when I wish that thing had killed me.” Stiles covered his face with both hands.

“Oh.”

“Derek, please don’t.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re about to comment on my unfortunate state. Just let me die of mortification.”

Derek leaned closer, prying Stiles’s hands away from his face. He stared into his eyes as he inched closer; then they were kissing.

“I’ve missed you. Never scare me like this again.”

Stiles kept his eyes wide open, mostly from shock. Derek still wanted him after everything.

When they pulled away, Stiles let out an embarrassed chuckle. “I promise to obtain your approval before another dark spirit decides to possess me.”

“Well, you don’t.”

They shared a smile before Stiles yawned loudly. “Will you be here in the morning?”

“I promise.” Derek carded his hand through Stiles’s hair, kissing his forehead.

He did that werewolf thing when he took the pain away, which put Stiles to sleep almost instantly. Not having rested well in weeks had left him exhausted.

~#~

Next time he came around, Derek and Scott were by the window, talking in hushed voices.

Stiles hadn’t thought of his friend. He’d have to come clean to Scott. He couldn’t keep such a secret from his best friend.

Derek was leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, making his muscles bulge out. His head was turned to the window.

Scott had a shoulder propped on the wall and his eyes on Derek’s profile.

Suddenly, Derek glanced at Stiles, probably sensing he was staring. His lips curled up.

“I can’t believe Stiles is undressing me with his eyes.”

Stiles sputtered, propping himself up on his elbows.

Scott chuckled, shooting his friend a wide smile, then he turned to Derek. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Stiles blinked in confusion. Was there a secret he shouldn’t know?

Derek shook his head, looking solemn. “Not yet. He’s only half done.”

“Dude!” Stiles choked out. He had no idea Derek could be sarcastically funny.

Derek lifted a brow at him, his eyes challenging him.

~#~

It was beyond Derek’s comprehension how Stiles had managed to convince the sheriff.

Solid proof that he hadn’t imagined Noah agreeing to let Stiles stay at his place for the weekend was that Stiles was banging loudly in his kitchen. Derek was forbidden to go in there unless he smelled blood – Stiles’s orders.

It was going to be a long weekend.

Stiles had been discharged earlier today, and now it was late Thursday night. Noah had given him a couple of free days, insisting that Stiles would feel better and safer with Derek.

They’d driven to Stiles’s to pack clothes and a few board games, then they went to Derek’s place. It was late evening by the time they stepped into the loft.

Stiles went to take a shower, complaining that he reeked of hospital smell. Derek agreed wholeheartedly. He missed Stiles’s natural scent.

“Ouch!” The interjection was followed by a loud clatter. “Everything’s fine,” Stiles called out. “Shit,” he added to himself.

Derek found it endearing that Stiles talked to himself when he cooked and how he expected to have the kitchen to himself.

The sound of plates being moved was heard, then something shattered.

“Oh, GOD.”

Derek stifled his amusement.

Ten minutes later, Stiles emerged with a metal pot filled with pasta and red sauce. There were two forks stuck in the boiled pasta.

“I promise to replace everything I broke. I guess my jelly fingers forgot how to work plates.”

“It’s cool, Stiles. This smells amazing.”

Stiles beamed. He plopped down on the sofa. His feet landed on the coffee table, then he placed the bowl between them.

“We’re watching something random?” He pointed to the TV.

“You can choose whatever.”

Derek lifted the bowl so it was held between their shoulders. That way they could eat without worrying about spilling sauce everywhere.

Contrary to what he’d expected after the sounds coming from the kitchen, the food was really good.

Stiles settled on a documentary on Animal Planet. He barely paid attention to what he was eating. His eyes never wavered from the screen.

Stiles’s fork bumped into Derek’s multiple times. All the acknowledgment was a muttered apology and more shoveling in his mouth without looking away.

On a particularly long noodle, Stiles managed to spray Derek’s face in sauce. His eyes cut to Derek’s face, and he laughed.

“Oops.” He leaned closer, licking away the sauce, then he pulled away as if burned. “Oh, shit. I’ve no idea why I did that.”

“A little warning next time.” Derek shifted closer, using a paper towel to take away the rest of the sauce.

Stiles returned his attention to the animals on the screen.

Derek decided to test how far Stiles would go if they tried one of the lamest moves in the book. He made sure to put the end of a long noodle on Stiles’s fork, while he stuck the other end in his mouth.

Stiles squinted his eyes, sucking at his end, leaning closer, until his nose bumped Derek’s. His eyes widened. They moved from Derek’s eyes to his mouth.

Instead of kissing him like Derek expected, Stiles pulled away. He placed the bowl on the coffee table, then straddled Derek’s lap.

“You’ve been naughty,” he whispered.

“You’re ignoring me.”

“In my defense, I haven’t watched a good show in a while. Sorry. Here. You have my undivided attention.” Stiles turned off the TV. “All yours.”

Derek plastered his open palms on Stiles’s back. “Mine.”

He’d been thinking over and over about what Alan had told him. Stiles was his mate. He’d never felt so strongly for anyone else before.

His heart was on fire, burning with desire.

And Stiles wasn’t making it easy for him to control himself. The initial plan to wait until Stiles turned eighteen looked stupider by the second.

During their long weekend, things would heat up and Derek couldn’t wait to see where they led.

He was ready to show Stiles how much he loved him. After almost losing him, the idea of waiting seemed like a big joke.

Derek pulled away from Stiles’s wet kisses. He took his hand, getting up.

“What?” Stiles moaned in protest.

“My bed is more comfortable.”


	24. Chapter 24

 

 

There was a spiral staircase in Derek’s loft. It led to the upper floor where the bedroom was.

Any other time, Stiles would have admired the wrought iron stairs, but at the moment he was concentrating on not stumbling over his feet. Derek was two steps ahead of him, leading the way upstairs.

Stiles wasn’t even trying to regulate his heartbeat.

He was going to have sex with Derek.

The euphoria was shadowed by a slight fear of the unknown, but he trusted Derek completely.

“You’re not going to pass out on me, right?” Derek asked when they reached the top floor.

Stiles shook his head from side to side, staring at his boyfriend with wide eyes.

“Breathe, Stiles.” He placed one of his large hands on the side of Stiles’s neck, pulling him closer. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want, or are not ready to do.”

“I want it,” Stiles blurted out.

They stepped into the bedroom.

Stiles leaned against the wall, watching as Derek bent to search for something in his nightstand. His eyes were glued to Derek’s firm, bubble butt.

Stiles whimpered.

Derek looked over his shoulder. His eyebrows were lost in his untamed hair.

“Come here.” He extended a hand, smiling softly.

Stiles knew his legs wouldn’t cooperate and they’d embarrass him. He’d probably end up sprawled on the floor. Not very romantic.

“So… I’ve watched a lot of porn. I think we should do it against the wall.”

“The bed is right here. Why do it against the wall?” Derek frowned, stepping closer to him.

“It’s gonna be fun. I promise.” Stiles winked, turning around. His palms touched the cold wall and his pushed his ass up, wiggling it.

Derek was on him the next second, making Stiles squeak. Derek’s lips were on Stiles’s neck and his hands were under Stiles’s shirt, touching his back.

“Okay, I didn't think it through. How are you going to take my clothes off?” Stiles asked shakily.

The words were barely out of his mouth when Derek ripped his shirt off.

“Whoa, dude!” Stiles shuddered. He had no idea that the sound of his shirt being ripped could be such a turn on.

He moaned, touching his achingly hard dick through his sweatpants.

“Bed!” Derek all but growled, steering Stiles in that direction.

Stiles fell face first on the bed and was instantly engulfed by Derek’s potent scent. He inhaled sharply, rutting against the mattress.

What with the events from the past few weeks, he hadn’t exactly had the time to masturbate.

Derek pulled Stiles’s pants off, leaving him in a pair of Batman boxers. Stiles could feel his face growing hot in embarrassment. Rationally, he knew that Derek had seen him in underwear before, but that was when he had been a wolf and could not make fun of him.

Derek leaned over him, covering his body with his own muscular body.

Stiles gasped in shock. Derek was naked, too. He could feel hot skin against his, and all his efforts to keep his orgasm at bay were gone. He pushed back against Derek’s erection, moaning loudly.

“You have to calm down, Stiles.”

“I need… Please… I have to feel you.”

Stiles squirmed under Derek until he was facing the man. He beamed, then dove both hands inside Derek’s briefs.

Derek’s eyes went wide and there was a flash of red.

Stiles’s mouth opened, dry as the desert, while his hand clutched at what seemed to be the biggest dick to exist. He’d seen his fair share of dicks in porn, but had never seen one live. Except his, which seemed like a baby compared to what he had his hands on at the moment.

“Stiles, damn it.” Derek sat up on his knees, making quick work of both their underwear.

“Oh, GOD!” Stiles gasped, staring fascinated at Derek's dick.

The base was thick, as thick as the can of his favorite spray deodorant. The length was impressive; Stiles estimated around seven inches long. The head was swollen and wet with precum.

“Hooooly!” Stiles grabbed at the bedsheet on either side of his body when Derek put his hands under Stiles’s ass and lifted his lower half off the bed. Derek nosed at his erection, making Stiles shudder, as copious amounts of precum spurted out. Then Derek licked him from his balls to the head of his dick.

Stiles couldn’t be sure where his cum landed, but it was definitely all over Derek’s face, dripping from his nose, and covering his eyelids.

“I’m so sorry,” he gasped out. He flailed around, grabbing the shreds of his underwear and cleaning Derek’s face.

Derek pushed away the cloth, blinking rapidly. “That was quick.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Seriously? That’s all a guy wants to hear,” he said sarcastically.

Derek shook his head. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I wasn’t expecting you to come so fast, though. But I’ve been your age, so I remember how things work.”

“I bet you didn’t have to hold out, so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of the hottest man alive.”

Derek’s lips curled upward. “Hottest man alive?”

“That’s you. Just clarifying it.”

“You’re adorable.” Derek wrapped his fingers into Stiles’s hair, before descending for a heated kiss. Their tongues battled for dominance. Stiles bucked up against Derek, moaning enthusiastically. His hands traced Derek’s back and stopped at his ass, where he squeezed it, earning a low rumble from deep within Derek’s chest.

During their making out session, they rolled around on the bed until Stiles ended up on top of Derek, his hands pinning Derek’s arms above his head.

Stiles abandoned Derek’s mouth to leave open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and down his shoulders. Stiles buried his nose in Derek’s armpit, not caring how weird Derek thought he was. Smelling the essence of Derek turned him on like nothing else. He continued his journey to Derek’s nipples, down his stomach and abs, where he spent quite some time, licking each individual square of muscle.

His heart burst into a marathon when he was face to dick.

Stiles forgot about dignity. He wrapped both hands around the base of Derek’s erection and kissed the length of it, then licked up the bulging vein to the moist tip. With his eyes boring into Derek’s, he took the head in his mouth.

Derek’s eyes fluttered shut. One of his hands cupped the back of Stiles’s head and the other clutched at his shoulder, anchoring himself.

The musky scent was more than Stiles could handle. He had imagined this moment multiple times, but the feeling of Derek’s dick in his mouth, the explosion of senses on his tongue at the taste of Derek’s precum, and the heaviness of the dick on his tongue threatened to overwhelm his senses.

“Easy,” Derek said all breathy. “You don’t have to.”

Stiles paid him no mind, going lower and taking more of the length and girth in his mouth. Then the wet tip hit the back of his throat. Gagging was an involuntary reflex.

Stiles kept trying, not one to give up on a challenge, but Derek pried him away after Stiles had to completely pull away and cough.

“Seriously. I didn’t expect for you to be expert at this. Frankly, I didn’t expect any of this.” Derek gestured between them.

Stiles flexed his jaw. “What if I train myself on a banana?”

Derek’s eyes clouded. He flipped Stiles around so fast that Stiles lay frozen on his stomach for a good minute after it happened.

Derek angled Stiles’s ass up, tracing a finger between the cheeks. That got a response from Stiles.

Stiles had no idea that his ass was so sensitive. Then something wet touched his hole. He craned his neck to see what Derek was doing, and nearly fainted. Only the top of Derek’s dark hair was visible. Derek was licking his ass. His tongue was in his ass.

Stiles mashed his face into the pillow, groaning loudly.

He’d imagined this first time with Derek multiple times, but never did he think Derek would do that.

~#~

When Derek had offered to move upstairs, he hadn’t intended for things to escalate so fast.

Judging by the way things were headed, they were going to fuck.

Stiles’s bravado and innocence made the experience a hundred times hotter. The way Stiles had almost begged Derek to fuck him against the wall. Derek still wasn’t sure if that hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. Then Stiles had tried deep-throating him, which to Derek’s relief was a failure. If Stiles had mastered that action, Derek would have had to ask some very embarrassing questions about Stiles’s dick-sucking skills. Thankfully, they’d never have to talk about it.

Stiles was pliable in his hands after having come all over Derek’s face not long ago. It gave Derek time to explore and taste the delicious ass in front of him.

When Stiles squirmed in his arms, and the smell of arousal tripled, Derek felt around for the lube. He found it under the blanket, having been pushed around by their rolling bodies. Despite the fact that he hadn’t expected for things to get so heated, he’d been inspired to prepare while they were still thinking clearly. That’s why the first thing Derek had done when they had entered the room was to place lube and condoms on the bed.

“Let me know if it hurts,” Derek said against Stiles’s back thigh, where he mouthed at the pale skin.

With one finger coated in lube, he circled Stiles’s pucker, then gently pushed inside. Stiles clenched around the intrusion, his heart beating wildly.

Derek rubbed a hand over Stiles’s back, trying to relax him. He was as tight as a vise.

Derek kissed down his thigh until he reached Stiles’s drawn balls. He licked and kissed them. His plan worked, because the boy’s inner muscles relaxed.

He could fit in his whole finger. He pumped it in and out slowly, allowing Stiles to adjust to the intrusion and get the hang of what it was like to have something in his ass. When Stiles moaned, wriggling closer, Derek applied more lube and added another finger. At first, Stiles clenched up, but he made a valid effort to relax.

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

“It feels odd, but so good. I can’t explain it,” Stiles said. “Oh, Jesus. What did you do?” He seized up, his eyes wide.

Derek smirked, curling his fingers again, his nails scraping against Stiles’s prostate.

“I think I’m gonna come again,” Stiles declared loudly. One of his hands shot under his body and curled around his balls. “I don’t wanna. I want to come with you deep inside me.”

Derek pulled away, afraid he was going to lose control of his shift. The last thing he wanted was to have claws sunk into Stiles’s ass.

“Are you sure? I can make you come like this.”

Stiles turned on his back. He threw one leg over Derek’s shoulder. “I want to have sex, Sourwolf. So get that huge dick of yours in my ass. NOW.”

“Are you going to be one of those Bossy Bottoms?”

“Are you going to be a Grumpy Wolf about it?”

“Just getting the facts clear. I want to know what I’m getting myself into.”

“You’re getting yourself into my ass!” Stiles grabbed him by the biceps, pulling him closer. “Fuck me.”

Stiles found a foil nearby, ripped it, then handed the condom to Derek. All the while, his brown eyes stayed locked on his.

“Please,” Stiles whispered.

Derek situated himself between Stiles’s spread legs. After rolling the rubber on his dick, he added more lube, then worked two fingers into Stiles to make sure he was still open.

He decided not to ask for Stiles to tell him if it hurt. He’d just have to be more aware of what Stiles was feeling. At the first tang of hurt, he was going to pull away. And Stiles wasn’t going to have sex with him until he turned eighteen and took such things seriously.

“Come on, big guy.” Stiles leaned closer, sucking Derek’s bottom lip in his mouth.

Still kissing Stiles, Derek guided the tip of his dick to Stiles’s hole. They stared into each other’s eyes, having an unspoken argument.

_Tell me to back off._

_Do it._

_Last chance._

_Fuck me already._

“Stiles,” Derek breathed out, as he breached the rim.

Stiles’s eyes squeezed shut. His fingertips dug into Derek’s skin. His ass lifted off the bed, effectively sucking in more of Derek’s dick.

“Ooooh! Oh, fuck,” Stiles choked out.

Derek made to pull out at the smell of pain combined with arousal.

“Don’t you dare, Derek!” Stiles shouted, anchoring himself around Derek’s body like a koala. “Give me a moment.”

“You’re in pain, you idiot!”

“I’ll be fine. It was expected to hurt.”

Derek carded his fingers through Stiles’s sweaty hair, kissing his neck. When he felt Stiles sagging into their embrace, and his heart going back to a steady beat, Derek rearranged their position.

He plied Stiles’s body so he was folded in half, with both his legs around Derek’s neck. Then he started moving.

At first, Stiles’s gasps were filled with a hint of hurt, but eventually, all emotions rolling off him were ecstasy and horniness.

Derek alternated between slow strokes and deep thrusts until Stiles spurted between them, untouched. It didn’t take long for Derek to find his completion, too.

As much as he’d have liked to fall on top of Stiles, he knew that he was too heavy for the boy. Besides, Stiles was already asleep.

Derek stared at him incredulously. Stiles lay spread eagle, his mouth open, drool gathered at the corner of his lips, his hair sticking in every direction.

Even though Derek wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with Stiles, he was the older and wiser one between them. He made the effort to bring a wet towel from the bathroom and clean both of them, then he pulled the blanket over their bodies. He threw an arm over Stiles, letting his head fall on the same pillow as Stiles’s. His nose nestled into the boy’s hair that way. He smelled like both of them, and Derek hadn’t been so content in years.


	25. Chapter 25

 

Stiles hummed to himself while he made pancakes the following morning.

Waking up naked, wrapped up in Derek, had been the best experience to date. After kissing Derek’s stubbly cheek, and only getting a growl in return, he had slipped out of the bed.

Stiles added three more pancakes to the stack by the stove. He added the last of the mix into the pan and played with it until it almost looked like a wolf. Or so it seemed to his active imagination.

Stiles smiled widely, clutching the spatula in his hand.

 _I had sex last night_ , he thought gleefully.

He giggled, flipping the last pancake.

_Sex with Derek freaking Hale._

“Oh, my God!” His heart thumped wildly in his chest. “I had sex!”

Two strong arms wrapped around his middle from behind, making Stiles jump and fall backwards into Derek’s strong chest. He was positive he’d die of fright one day.

“Duuude! Don’t sneak up on me!”

Derek grunted against his neck, nosing at the spot behind his ear.

Stiles was inspired to turn off the stove. Then he spun in Derek’s embrace, looping his arms around Derek’s neck. “Hey, Sourwolf!” He beamed, kissing Derek’s nose.

Derek scrunched his nose. “I thought I ripped your boxers,” he said, tracing the elastic band of Stiles’s Batman boxers.

“You think I had only that pair? Did you forget we went to my house to pack?”

“I had no idea you liked Batman so much.”

Stiles stroked Derek’s cheek. “I promise to buy boxers with little wolves on them next time.”

Derek growled in warning, backing Stiles into the counter. “I want you.”

“I’m not stopping you. I’m down with it. Just don’t rip this pair, too.”

“Get out of them while I go get the lube and a condom.” Derek demanded, rushing out of the kitchen.

“I hope that’s a plural! Condomsssssss!” Stiles yelled after him.

He almost brained himself in his haste to get out of his boxers. He decided to tease Derek by bending over the counter, and waiting for his reaction to seeing his ass on display.

The deep growl alerted Stiles of Derek’s return. He looked over his shoulder in time to see Derek’s face shifting. His beard grew thicker, his eyebrows disappeared, his fangs dropped, and his eyes burned red. There would be claw marks on his thighs, but that was the least of his concerns.

To his credit, Derek made a valid effort to retract his claws while he loosened Stiles’s muscles, then he pushed inside.

Stiles plastered his hands on the counter, moaning brokenly. He’d figured his ass was used to Derek’s dick by now, but apparently it still hurt at first. The burn eased until it was replaced with pleasure. So much pleasure.

~#~

“Can you stop moving?” Derek protested loudly.

Stiles froze mid-twisting around on the couch. One of his feet was on Derek’s lap and the other between Derek’s ass and the back of the couch. One of his hands was reaching for the phone on the coffee table, while the other was on his stomach.

“Wut?” Stiles asked around the mouthful of pancakes.

It didn’t matter it was near noon. They hadn’t eaten breakfast due to Derek’s enthusiasm at fucking Stiles on the kitchen counter, then against the hallway wall.

Wall sex was just as hot as Stiles had expected.

“You’ve been moving every second since we decided to sit down and watch TV.”

Stiles swallowed his half-chewed pancake. “I forgot the Adderall at home.”

“Shit. That’s… Why didn’t you say so before?”

“Because I just realized it when you pointed out how restless I am.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Fuck it. I can live without it. Just don’t upset me, or I’ll have horrible mood swings. Worse than a pregnant woman.”

Derek chuckled, pulling both of Stiles’s feet onto his lap. “I remember how your dad used to compare your mood swings to his experience around your mother when she was pregnant.”

Stiles poked out his tongue. “It’s not creepy at all that you can remember all that stuff… from a time you were a wolf.”

“I was still me, but in my Alpha shift.”

“Whatever you say, Wolfie.” Stiles winked, pulling up his thread of text messages with Scott. He had to make plans to meet with his best friend and tell him everything.

After exchanging a dozen messages and setting a date for late Tuesday evening at Scott’s house, Stiles dug his toes into Derek’s thigh.

“Hey, man. You never told me what you and Scott were talking about when I woke up yesterday morning.”

“You never asked,” Derek said, keeping his eyes on the TV screen.

“You distracted me. _Stiles is undressing me with his eyes_ ,” Stiles said in a low, growly voice.

“I don’t sound like that!” Derek shot him an annoyed look.

“Dude, you growl in your sleep! You growl every time something doesn’t go your way.”

“I don’t growl in my sleep!”

“Yes, you do. See? You’re distracting me again.” Stiles shuffled closer until he was sitting on Derek’s lap. “So what did you talk to Scott about?”

“It’s not relevant.”

Stiles turned Derek’s head so he could see his eyes. He looked worried. “Hey, I’m curious. If it’s some secret… it’s cool.”

Derek looked away, then unleashed the power of his green-gray eyes on Stiles. “Scott asked if I’d have turned you into a werewolf if that thing had managed to hurt you beyond saving.”

“Oh.”

Stiles hadn’t thought of that alternative.

Actually, he had never considered the choice of becoming a werewolf. He was just fine being human.

“What did you tell him?” Stiles whispered, taking Derek’s hand.

“That I hope to never be put in such a situation where I have to choose.”

“I guess now’s a good time to say that I’d rather stay human. And just to put it out there – if it comes down to that, you have my blessing to bite me. I’d rather be like you, than die and put you through hell. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

Derek hugged him tightly. “Scott asked if I’d bite him.”

“What?” Stiles knocked his forehead against Derek’s jaw in his haste to move so he could see Derek’s eyes. “Tell me that’s a joke.”

“Nope. I didn’t get to answer him. You woke up by the time I was collecting my thoughts.”

“Why? Why would he want that?”

“Maybe he thought it’s something I want. I was telling him about pack dynamics.” Derek rubbed a hand down Stiles’s back. “What Scott doesn’t know is that I already have a pack. And he’s part of it, just like your dad is part of it.”

Stiles smiled watery. He was going to discuss Scott’s wish to become a werewolf when he’d see him, until then, he was going to enjoy his weekend with Derek.

~#~

On Saturday, Derek brought Stiles breakfast in bed. The smell of coffee roused his lover from a deep slumber.

He barely managed a sip of the magic liquid before the cup was taken away. Derek was all over him, kissing and nipping.

Stiles had no idea how much sex the average person had in a day, but they were about to reach number seven in the third day of their coupling.

Stiles rode Derek, realizing how shit his stamina was when he got tired after a few pushes and pulls. Thankfully, Derek was there to guide him and anchor him.

“So…” Stiles dragged the word as he lay spent on Derek’s chest.

“Yeah?”

“Are we allowed to tell people about us? Please say yes. I have to brag at school that I’m banging the hottest man on earth.”

“You can tell them that you have a boyfriend,” Derek said against Stiles’s cheek, leaving puffs of warm air on his skin.

“Your boyfriend will I be,” Stiles joked, but sobered up when Derek watched him confused.

“Yoda talking. Star Wars? Jedi Master? YODA!” Stiles shouted in his face. He sat up, hands propped against Derek’s broad chest.

“No clue what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen the movies, but I plan on reading the books.”

“Never seen it?” Stiles asked stupefied.

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but in the past several years…” Derek smirked.

“I’ve watched those movies a thousand times!” Stiles gesticulated wildly.

“I must have been asleep.” Derek shrugged.

“Get up.” Stiles sprung out of the bed, searching for his clothes.

“What?” Derek propped himself on his elbows.

“We’re going back to my place to marathon all the movies. I’ll even let you pick out the snacks.”

“Stiles…” Derek fell back, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“There are nine movies waiting for us at my place!” Stiles grabbed Derek’s arm, pulling him up. “Each one has over two hours of running time. It’s gonna be fun!”

Sometimes Derek wondered if life as Stiles’s pet wolf would have been easier. But he remembered that Stiles used to wear him out on his best days.


	26. Chapter 26

 

 

Stiles was seething.

After over a decade of being around Derek, he should have been used to his tendencies to get in danger’s way to save others.

It wasn’t like Stiles had asked for the big bad Alpha who was traveling alone to come find him while he was celebrating the end of high school in the woods with Scott.

They’d been at the viewpoint, drinking and sharing memories.

Scott’s eighteenth birthday wish had been atypical at best. He’d been adamant about becoming just like Derek. After a lot of talking between the three of them, Derek had caved. He’d even sold some bullshit to Scott about the Bite being a gift.

Stiles figured it had come in handy that Scott was now a werewolf when the crazy Alpha had come out of nowhere to disturb their party.

Sadly, Scott was still too young and in training, so he hadn’t been much help when the Alpha had attacked. With a swipe of claws in his direction, Scott had been thrown a few feet away. Then Stiles had been taken to a hidden cellar under the Nemeton.

He’d idly wondered why everything bad was centered around the damn tree.

Over the years, Derek had explained to him that they were so close and felt so strongly about each other because their bond ran deep. They were mates.

The crazy Alpha was set to hurt Derek by kidnapping and threatening him with Stiles’s life.

Thankfully, Scott had come around and called for Derek. Stiles had been praying for his life and trying to defend himself against the bad Alpha, to which he’d almost succeeded, when Derek had burst through the trap door.

There had been a bloody battle, which resulted in the crazy Alpha’s death. The sad part was that Derek had been badly injured in the process, too.

This led to Stiles’s rage. Rationally, he knew he would have been no match for the Alpha if he’d dared to try fighting him like he had been planning, but to see Derek getting mauled before his eyes had been nerve-wracking.

Stiles glared into his bowl of mashed potatoes. He was helping his dad make dinner.

His conscience told him to call and check on Derek, because he’d left him near the Nemeton’s stump after screaming at him, then he’d picked his way home on his own.

“Why is there a black wolf looking pathetic on our porch?” Dad asked from his spot at the window.

“Because Derek is an ass.”

Dad quirked an eyebrow, then returned to looking outside. “Unless pissing in the flower pot is a werewolf apology, then I don’t see how—”

Stiles stormed to the front door, pulling it open.

Derek froze, his back leg lifted up, his ears plastered to the back of his head. “Marking your territory now?” He shouted.

Derek whimpered, putting his back leg down and sticking his tail between his hind legs.

“I told you I can take care of myself. I was doing a fine job talking him out of killing me.”

Derek looked up, growling loudly.

“You underestimate the power of my words. I can convince people to do a lot of stuff.” Stiles folded his arms across his chest. “I convinced Jackson that I’d key his pretty car if he dared to hurt Lydia again.”

Derek shot him an unimpressed look, and Stiles knew why. When Stiles had told Jackson that, Derek had been several feet away, leaning against his Camaro. Jackson was most likely more scared of Stiles’s boyfriend than of Stiles himself.

He crouched down to Derek’s level. “Dude, I know you care about me. But sometimes, it’s not worth the risk. He could have killed you!”

Derek hung his head, letting out a whining growl.

“I need you to understand that I can protect myself without your furry ass intervening every time.” Stiles held his hands up when Derek’s eyes flashed red. “Let’s say this time it was a good thing you were there, but every other time I was in trouble or got into some random fight, you swept in to save the day. I know Scott is just as guilty as you. He warned you every time I was in danger, because he’s a good Beta.”

Derek huffed.

“I know, okay? I don’t like seeing you get hurt.”

Derek rumbled.

“I love you, you big, silly wolf.” Stiles kissed between Derek’s eyes.

Derek ducked his head.

“Now come on in. And wipe your paws. Last time you brought in chunks of dirt, and Dad went ballistic.”

“So do I need to set an extra dinner plate at the table or on the floor?” Dad asked cheekily from the kitchen doorway.

Derek glared at him, shifting back as he walked upstairs. “Stilinskis.”

“I heard that, bud!” Dad called out.

Stiles blinked, confused at the exchange. His dad and Derek had grown real close.

Derek had stopped working at the station about a year ago, but still went to help them any time they had trouble with their computers. He dedicated all his time to renovating his old house.

Stiles went to his dad, leaning in to whisper to him, “He deserves a dry bone for how he’s been acting.”

“Werewolf hearing!” Derek shouted from upstairs.

Stiles froze, and Dad laughed loudly.

“You’re a cop. You must know all the tricks about getting away with murder and hiding a body.”

“You’re the worst boyfriend in the world,” Derek proclaimed, joining them. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and one of his favorite Henley shirts.

Stiles hoped his father wouldn’t ask about why Derek had spare clothes in his room. That would be awkward to answer.

“Takes one to know one.” Stiles winked, wrapping his arms around Derek’s waist. He looked up into his eyes, smiling. “Isn't it weird to think that somewhere out there, someone is secretly in love with you?”

Derek smoothed the hair out of Stiles’s eyes, returning the smile. “Who would love me?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Me! I love you, you stupid, self-sacrificing, god damn sexy ass, brooding sourwolf!”

“That was a secret how?” He blinked in confusion.

“Try not to find logic in what he says,” Stiles’s father commented. “Let’s eat. Dinner is ready.”

“It was supposed to be a romantic confession,” Stiles mumbled, trudging after his dad and boyfriend.

“You need to work on your romance.” Derek winked.

“Like you’re better at it!” Stiles sat next to him at the table. “I still remember the time you brought me a dead animal. I don’t care if that’s how wolves court their mates inthe wild, but you’re actually human. Flowers and food always do the trick.”

“It was once!” Derek huffed.

“Enough to traumatize me for life.”

“And… that’s my son.” Dad laughed. “If you aren’t used to him by now, I don’t know when you’ll understand his sarcasm and dark sense of humor.”

“Oh, I’m used to Stiles. It took awhile for me to figure out that’s how he rolls.”

“Are you two about done mocking me?” Stiles glared at them. “Sarcasm is my only defense. I’m one hundred and forty-seven pounds of pale skin and fragile bones.”

“That’s why I’m here – to protect you.” Derek pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You only have to let me take care of you.” He kissed Stiles’s temple.

Somehow they were back to square one – to the reason why Stiles was supposed to be mad at Derek. He’d managed to forgive him, because wolf Derek knew how to make Stiles’s heart warm and fuzzy, and human Derek made him lose his breath and train of thought.

“You’re so lucky I love you, Derek.”

Derek smiled widely, showing his adorable bunny teeth.

Stiles smiled back, stealing a short kiss, because he was aware of his dad watching them from across the table.

As they settled in to eat, Stiles ripped a piece of chicken from his plate and held it up to Derek’s mouth, making Derek look at him, startled.

“Remember when you sat under my chair, and I sneaked you food?”

His comment earned howls of laughter from all three of them. They’d come a long way since Derek had first joined their family.

He used to sit under Stiles’s chair, happily accepting whatever Stiles managed to give him with or without his dad noticing.

Now he sat at the table with them, laughing at the memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I hope you all enjoyed it. :)

**Author's Note:**

> I will post pictures related to this story in my other group on facebook (addict_writer fanfiction). Yes, there are two groups: one for QaF and one for other stuff.
> 
> Thoughts?
> 
> I will update every weekend. (I make no promises in answering all reviews, but I want you all to know that I read them and appreciate them) =)


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